Later Days and Better Lays
by UsernameOK
Summary: When life manages to be both a roller coaster and a teacup ride simultaneously. J. D. does what he can to shake things up. Whether anyone wants him to or not. Onesided!J. D./OC and Onesided!Heather C./ OC. ON HIATUS.
1. You Might Be Alright

"Veronica, you won't believe what happened!"

JD didn't look up at the sudden shout in the cafeteria, opting to keep his head buried in his book and just half listen.

"Oh, hey Martha." A girl ,who JD presumed was Veronica, said; her tone suggested she was weary. He commended her for not getting irritated with her friend, who was practically bursting with so much excitement it was cringe worthy.

"It's the Heathers." Martha sat down at the table beside her friend, lowering her voice so only the other rejects would hear whatever news she was desperate to tell. JD was practically immobile in his seat at the very end of the three tables pushed close together, though he knew he wasn't really sitting with them per say. JD didn't even know any of them, but experience told him these were the kids who were least likely to give him grief for coping a squat.

Veronica kept half her attention on her own text book, along with a sheet of paper she took notes on; everything about her screamed studious, from the penmanship, the focused gaze, the swift scribbling, and the obvious disregard for appearances if her clothes and mussed hair said anything. A reject with drive; JD could respect that. Too bad there wasn't any point in getting to know her. Or really anyone.

"They all got a week of detention from Mrs. Fleming." Martha stage whispered. "She found them in the bathroom out of class without a hall pass."

"Wow, the Heather's getting held to the rest of the lowly public's rules?" Veronica asked dully as she gave her friend a half smile. "That is news."

"Do you think they'll actually serve it out?" Martha wondered curiously. "I mean, even the teachers don't bother them….I get chewed out for writing too loudly." she sighed and swiped a fry in a glop of ketchup, chin bobbing up and down as she ate.

"I doubt it, but I guess anything's possible." Veronica sighed once more. "Mrs. Fleming sounded really smug when she told them. Bet you anything she's been waiting for an opportunity to bust them."

"How did you know?"

"I was just leaving the bathroom." Veronica shrugged. "I had a pass though."

"Lucky she didn't get you too." Martha's wary expression was swapped with a giddy smile. "We have our movie date after school!"

"Yeah. I almost wanted to step in and say something, but," Veronica chewed on the end of her pencil.

"Veronica, tell me you weren't thinking of…" Martha looked around, but at this point no one else was really listening, too absorbed in their own conversations. "You know, forging their names on your pass? It's not worth it. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

JD himself had the pleasure of only making the acquaintance of one Heather in a previous class and he wasn't looking forward to meeting the other two. Needless to say, though JD's gaze continued to scan his book and his mouth remained shut, he couldn't help silently agree with Martha.

"No, I know. And I didn't. I was thinking if I did them a favor, maybe they'd owe me." Veronica explained, trying to sound as if the idea hadn't been seriously knocking around in her mind. "But come on, they'd think it was something owed to them. Besides, if Mrs. Phelgming saw through me, I'd get in trouble and I am not compromising my freedom for them."

Martha nodded. "I'm glad. It's not worth getting detention."

"Not even just that Martha. What if it went on my record? Once this year is done, I'm out of here. If I'm lucky, I'll be in a university a few thousand light-years away from this dump." Veronica told her bitterly. "I mean it, if anything gets in the way of me and an acceptance letter, I will flip my shit and torch this place to the ground."

JD smirked to himself. _"Not a bad idea at all."_

"Veronica, um, you'll come back to visit though now and then, right?" Martha made imprints in the soggy mash potatoes with her fork. "I was going to stay in state; it's my best option. I'm not as smart as you...I couldn't go to Duke or Harvard or anything."

"Martha, that's crazy. Your grades are just as good as mine and you've done more extracurricular crap. Willingly." Veronica added; her cynical smile softened as she looked over Martha's doubtful shrug. "Look, if by some sick twist of fate you don't at least get to the border of Ohio, and even if you do, I'll keep in touch. Letters, calls, and visits."

"Oh, but you'll be busy getting settled...you'll probably make all these friends and have a whole new life." Martha quickly smiled. "And I'd be happy for you. But, at least promise you won't forget about me? Even if you're studying abroad in Spain or France or something, you'll still save me a croissant?"

Veronica laughed. JD would say it was a nice laugh; that is, if he thought there was any reason to bother talking to her.

"Are you kidding me? You're my best friend. I wouldn't leave you alone in this hell hole of a town."

Martha smiled tentatively at Veronica's sincere grin.

"And you know what? When we're business savvy, successful, self made women of sophistication, I'll make sure we find time to go on girl's only trips. Whether we're married or have no husbands or kids, it'll be just two freewheeling bitches on the town. You'll see; this place isn't everything. We'll survive."

Martha's beamed brightly. "You're right." she sighed a little in relief and rested her chin in her hand. "It's too bad though, isn't it? I mean, what the heck happened to us?"

J. D. wanted to laugh. _"What always happens ladies. Just be glad you only have one year left in one school dealing with the same brand of assholes."_

"I don't know. It's like the older we get, the worse we get. Look at adults. Have you seen a bigger bunch of apathetic jerks, oblivious to everything that isn't affecting them? That's us someday."

Martha shook her head. "No way. You're still nice. And I think I'm still nice…"

"Not even. You're a saint compared to the dicks we have to see every day."

"Not every day. Weekends are free!"

"Yeah, if they're not monopolizing the best hang outs like mall-maggots. And then they'll grow up, work at the gas stations and the Denny's and they'll be pathetic, but just as big of jerk offs, only balder and fatter." Veronica rolled her eyes. "Face it, we won't be able to get away from them if we stick around here. This town's too small."

"You're too pessimistic." Martha nudged Veronica with her elbow. "Come on, it won't be that bad. Even now isn't too bad; it could be worse."

"Yeah, I hear you."

JD didn't continue to listen as they began talking about colleges.

" _It could be worse, but it's already shit."_

JD flipped to the next page and found he had lost his place. He was envious; after all, maybe their twelve consecutive years of attending public school with the same posers and skanks and generally impossibly awful people was hell, but at least they were surviving the hell together. They had a place, their own little niche. They had time.

JD had six weeks top, eight if his dad was feeling lazy. Granted, it was the same variety of hell, the same pattern, pretty much every single school; the only thing JD had working for him was experience. It was like his life was on loop despite his address constantly changing.

 _"Well, cheers to them."_ JD thought as he closed his book and headed to his next class; on the plus side, no one had really done anything to mess with him as of yet. JD knew he'd be peachy just moving along like a ghost, tolerating the half assed attempts to educate him, and generally being anonymous.

And so, mercifully the day came to an end and JD found himself free to wander around his new environment; he couldn't help compare it to being a new animal introduced to the zoo, and JD wasn't even referring to high school specifically. Each town was oddly similar when a person stopped to look. Or not look.

A town hall, a dingy bar, a greasy spoon, a library, the commonplace stores and fast food chains, and a string of sub par public schools and some nicer ones more geared to helping the youth leave to move on to better things. On that note, most towns had the haves and the have nots, even if there was a marginal difference in status and wealth, god forbid it not be acknowledged and picked up on and inserted into the minds of each person.

But JD couldn't care less. It was hard to be concerned with the knowledge it was all temporary. And besides, there was only one place JD wanted to check out; he sped through the unfamiliar streets on his motorbike, head swiveling this way and that to find it, that one single chain of establishments, a single paradise of junk food and stained, sticky tile floors and whirring snack machines and dead eyed employees.

Luckily for him, it was a hop and a skip away from the school. After parking and locking his bike, JD breathed in the smell of a new 7-Eleven; he stood for a moment to take it in with his eyes. As soon as he stepped through the automatic sliding doors, JD found himself taking in the sounds of an electric guitar, a catchy drum bat, and the almost lazy, yet somehow energetic voice of Billy Joel and a less refined one harmonizing along.

"You may be right, I may be crazy-"

The young woman, who JD assumed was typically behind the counter, was turning up the volume on the portable radio as she swept the floor, using the handle like a mic, and then a guitar as the saxophone solo came up.

"Hey! But it just may be a lunatic you're lookin' for~!"

JD briefly thought of silently sneaking past her to the nearest aisle to save her embarrassment, but then again, where's the fun in that?

"Excuse me?" JD lightly tapped her arm; he could see both her shoulders hunch as she jumped.

"Oh!" The woman's look of surprise melted to a relieved laugh. "Sorry, you startled me. It's been dead in here all day, and whenever I hear this song I get too amped up to sit still."

"Pardon me for the intrusion." JD offered a vague smile. "But I was wondering where the slushie machine is?"

"Oh, let me show you." The woman leaned the broom against the side of a rack of candy. "It's in the back, around the corner- real smart place to put the thing we sell the most of, right?"

"Choice." JD felt what he assumed was the warmth of falling in love all over again as the dispenser came into sight.

"A bad choice." she laughed; her steps were still bouncing in time to the remainder of the beat. "Hey, are you new in town?"

"Observant. Or is it obvious?"

"Oh, it's a small town. Most of the kids already know where everything is." she told him as she took a second to tidy up the row of overpriced sunglasses hanging in pairs; her eyes glanced over her wristwatch. "In fact, I bet you're from Westerberg High. It's about that time they start pouring out of the school."

"That would be correct."

"So you're a new kid huh?"

"That would also be correct." JD said with a stretched smile that he hoped portrayed he wasn't in the mood for more inquiries of whether he was making friends or getting lost or where he had come from.

"Welcome. Tell you what, first slushie is free." The woman patted the top of the machine. "Call it my thanks for not bursting out laughing at that little spectacle back there."

"That wasn't intentional? Here I thought all 7-Eleven's provided an amateur night."

The woman cackled. "You've got jokes too. Yeah, I can tell, you'll be fine."

JD watched as she made her way back to the broom and picked up a dustpan to get the pile of dust and crumbs; if only she knew. He helped himself to a cup and looked down the row of flavors.

 _"I'm thinking….cherry. No, lemon. A toast to the end of summer and the start of a new year. Or half year most likely."_ JD pressed down on the button and watched the half melted ice fall into the cup. He frowned slightly once it was full; chances were the days would fluctuate between hot and chilly. _"Maybe I should have gone with cherry."_

When JD made his way back down the aisle to the counter, the woman was behind the counter and looking at him strangely.

"Earth to-" JD glanced down at her nametag. "Mel?"

"Short for Melanie." she smiled dryly at his raised brow. "I had a choice on what they could print. And sorry, was I staring at you?"

"Yes indeed, but something tells me I can't be that fascinating."

Mel laughed sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I spaced out. Is that all you wanted?"

"Yep." JD said.

"Alrighty. Now get out." Mel tried to snarl, but she erupted into a giggle a second after saying it. JD must have looked hesitant because she resumed a more serious expression. "Don't worry, I won't get in trouble for a freebie. I'm the first person who's worked here that hasn't slipped some money from the register into their pockets, so I get some more leeway."

JD smiled. "And so you decide to share the wealth with the strange drifter?"

"Drifter? What, not staying long?"

"Nah. But who knows? We must expect the unexpected. Maybe I'll try to stick around if the slushies here are as good as they look."

"They're all the same wherever." Mel laughed.

"You don't say?"

"I did. Didn't you hear me?" Mel gave him a confused look before letting out another cackle. "Sorry, don't mind me, you go a little cuckoo when you work here long enough."

JD took a sip of his drink. "So, I know social etiquette dictates I refrain from making certain assumptions, so I'll ask now; would you be offended if I wanted to know how old you were?"

"Not at all. Why, how old do I look?" Mel leaned over slightly and cocked her head to side with a winning grin.

JD leaned forward on his elbow. "Well, from the comment you made earlier concerning kids like me and the fact you seem to be working here during school hours, you're definitely not a high schooler."

Mel nodded. "And do I look it?"

"Of the top of my head? I'd guess seventeen."

Mel looked surprised. "Wow, that's older than usual. But no, you're off by six years."

"Then if my math classes have served me well, that'd make you….twenty three?"

"Yup. You're better than me, I'd need to use my fingers to count." Mel gave him a strange look as JD proceeded to practically chug down his slushie with through the straw. "Whoa, careful kid, you'll get brain freeze and then you'll have to use your fingers like me."

"Hey, I'm no kid." JD smiled around the straw, teeth clamped on the end. "I'll soon be of legal age ma'am, free to join the army, the navy, the list of fatalities in automobile accidents, become a high school drop out, all that good stuff."

Mel chuckled. "Then drink responsibly and stay in school. Gotta be careful; adults tend to make the biggest screws up you know."

JD opened his mouth to ask another question, but thought better. "Well, much obliged," he raised his cup to her. "Hope the next time we meet you're not in a straight-jacket."

"As long as no one takes my tunes away, I think I can survive." Mel said as she patted her radio.

"My regards to Mister Joel." JD flashed the devil horns and left her laughing behind the counter as she checked inventory; he leaned up against his bike and began downing the rest of his slushie. The throbbing in JD's head coupled with the rush of wind from his speeding motorbike was more than welcome as he made his way to the place he slept and ate. Using the term 'home' would be stretching the truth. He smiled despite the pain; he only had so long to relish in the distractions, might as well make the most of it.

 _"Now the only question left is how do I survive?"_


	2. We're Halfway There

"Are you drunk?"

"Hardly."

There was a tense sort of silence; Mel tapped her fingers on the side of the wooden panel the phone was secured to. She smiled wryly at the scratched in graffiti; the owner thought it was artistic.

"You sound drunk."

"Gary, I am not drunk."

"Heard from Sheila you were over at her bar tonight."

Mel cursed silently. "Okay, but I had, like, two drinks. Four tops."

A groan. "For the love of god-you realize I still want you to come in tomorrow?"

"Of course, I didn't drink that much; besides, my shift isn't until noon." Mel sent over a glare at what was once her favorite dive bar. "I can't believe that Sheila ratting me out."

"Hey, I asked her if you were there. And you should be grateful she worries."

"I know...I know." Mel ran a hand through her tousled hair. "Gary, I was just having some fun, I swear I'm not completely wasted. Did she tell you how I totally aced karaoke night?"

Gary sucked his teeth. "That's not what I'm thinking about right now. It's getting late and I want you to get home."

"Fine, I was gonna book it anyway, the next guy can't sing for shit and he's trashing Journey." Mel winced; she could hear the off note belting from the other side of the room. "Damn, now that guy's ready for the drunk tank."

"Do you need a ride?" Gary brushed off her attempt to deride the subject.

"No, I'm good." Mel said with a dramatic sigh. "I don't live that far."

"You go straight home."

"Okay, take a pill Gary." Mel tried to sound exasperated but it just came out as fond; she really wanted to be irritated, but it was hard. "I promise, I'll go straight home, drink lots of water, and keep my knife in my hand."

"You do that. I'll see you tomorrow and if you're not at work on time, I'm busting into your house."

"Thank you Gary. See you tomorrow."

"Night."

Mel hung up the phone and sighed; she looked over the room. It really wasn't that late, not for a Friday night, but she knew that since Sheila had to leave early, Gary didn't feel so good about her staying longer.

 _"Shoot, I don't see why not."_

Mel looked over the rowdy group; the loners and people who wanted to get drunk in peace sat along the bar's farthest corners or near the TVs so they could look preoccupied; people looking for someone to take home were more in the middle or conversing with the bartenders to look sociable. She and everyone else were sitting around tables surrounding the dance floor and the karaoke stage; it was a lot safer than other bars she visited from time to time, but even so, she supposed you never quite knew for sure what night the odd weirdo or rapist or serial killer would show up and take advantage of a person's altered senses.

"Hey Laney, you want another Budweiser or you going for something new?"

Mel shook her head at one of the regulars. "Sorry Tim, gotta motor. Work tomorrow."

"Aw come on!" he was already handing Sheila a few tens. "At least sing one more song, it's barely nine."

"It's ten thirty, you bum." Sheila grabbed the cash and began taking out bottles. "Mel, you go on."

"I know, Gary gave me the 411." Mel smiled at her sardonically as she helped steady Tim, who was swaying on the bar stool.

Sheila paused and kept her face turned away as she twirled a finger in one of her curls. "I'm sorry Mel, I know ya wanted to get out, but I'm going to be leaving soon and I'd just feel better if I was here if you're going to be here-"

"I get you Sheila, I do. I had my fun anyway."

"Livin' on a prayer!"

"Tim, can it." Mel pushed him off; she liked to think she was able to from raw strength alone, but it didn't help her buddy was incapacitated. "Sheila, tell me I never looked this bad drunk."

"No sweetie, not usually." Sheila said absently as she served up three more food menus. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay, night Sheila."

"Yep. And don't forget, I need you in here on the noon rush for Monday and Wednesday."

Mel frowned. "Did that fucking Danny say he was out sick again? He's been blowing off his shifts all last week too."

"No, he didn't call in, I gave him the boot. Too many excuses and lazy besides."

"That guy was a legit bum. You should've tossed him a month ago."

"Anyway," Sheila said with a half smile. "I'll call Gary to make sure you made it home. Drink water."

Mel sent her one last smile before walking out the door and into the open air.

 _"Damn it's warm for September…"_

Her house was not even a thirty minute walk away from the Sheila's, which was convenient; the overall mood of the place was casual and fun. Everyone knew someone and if they didn't, it wasn't a big deal. But that was also the drawback.

" _I should've known Gary would call Sheila...next time I'm not telling him which bar I'm going for."_

Mel loved Sheila's. In fact, she loved the bar's namesake and her worry wart husband who also happened to be her other employer.

It was sheer dumb luck she found them; one night, alone and wandering and not knowing where to go that was open that late with a phone or a bathroom. At the time she was underage, but she wasn't looking for a drink, just a place to stop and rest; Sheila had given her a cup of water and a plate of wings on the house. Five hours later, Mel was still there, the wings were no more than bones, and she had ended up spilling her guts to the kind woman. The rest was history and she was grateful for them being in her life.

Mel sighed and looked alert as she walked through the neighborhood. _"I just need to have a good time without anyone bugging out...next time I'm going to the one across town, the cab will be worth it."_

Still, she couldn't say she wasn't touched and feeling the warm fuzzies.

 _"Or is that the rum and Coke...?"_ Mel squinted her eyes, looking ahead; she was only halfway to her house, but there was a hobo sitting on the bus stop bench smoking a cigarette. _"Damn it all, please be a tired, sober guy just waiting for a lift and not someone to jack."_

The smoke floated up through the muggy air; Mel was wearing relatively light clothes and she didn't know how this man was wearing the overcoat without having a stroke. She was a foot away from him, hand in her pocket and clutched around her swiss blade, just in case.

"Hey, if it isn't Melanie."

Mel was just about to pass the hunched over man, who up close and looking directly at, was actually a boy.

"Oh, hi!" she blinked several times. "Geez kid, sorry, I didn't recognize you."

"I have that kind of face." JD smiled slowly as he let smoke blow out his nostrils. Mel wasn't amused.

"Kid, what are you doing out here? Don't you have a curfew?" Mel looked around. "Do you live around here? 'Cause if you're trying to ride home, the buses just stopped running for the night."

"I was just out for a stroll. It's so peaceful out, calming. Looks like you had a fun night." JD took in the state of her clothes and hair. "Coming from a boyfriend's?"

"What? Oh no, I just came from Sheila's-local bar I work at part time." Mel explained; she forgot a kid who was new to the area, not to mention not legally permitted to drink, wouldn't know what she was talking about. "It's a radical time, dancing and karaoke. Do I look like I was up to something else?" she smiled teasingly.

"You look amped, that's for sure."

Mel's smile faltered and she took a closer look at his face. "You look like you got socked in the mouth...did you get in a fight after school?"

"Do I look like I was up to something else?"

She ignored his easy smile. "You don't live around here, do you? You may think I'm being nosey, but you get this looks bad, right?"

"I can relate." JD stubbed out his cigarette under his shoe. "And no, my neighborhood is an hour away from here on foot."

Mel didn't ask how he knew that. "And...I take it you're not visiting a relative or going to a friend's place? Shit, what am I saying, you just got here...look, you don't have to tell me why, but I need to know a few things."

JD stared up at her. "What would those things be ma'am?"

Mel met his stare. "That busted lip isn't from some teenage fist fight is it?"

JD shook his head, but his eyes didn't waver from hers; it was like he was trying to dare her to keep asking questions he knew she might not really want to hear the answers to. Part of her didn't; right now all she wanted to do was go home, drink some water, and get in bed to sleep off the slight headache already coming on.

"And, I take it you don't have anywhere to stay for the night?"

JD raised his hands. "Ladies and gentleman, we have a winner! Your grand prize includes one runaway and a whole bundle of issues you aren't prepared to deal with."

"Well, I could take you with me back to Sheila's, call the police, and have them take you home to your parents."

"Parent. Mom's dead."

Mel felt a knot in her stomach; she didn't feel shocked exactly at how easily he told her. It was more like grief and pity.

"I hate to make assumptions, but I'm guessing that lip is why you ran off?"

JD just matched her gaze with a half smirk; his eyes unnerved her. They were so dull compared to his voice and mannerisms and facial expressions.

Mel sighed and bit her lip. "I'm not leaving you out here alone. Have you eaten anything?"

Fifteen minutes later JD. was slumped on her couch as Mel reheated a container of chicken lo mein from the other night.

"You can't live on slushies kid." she said as she handed him a fork and the bowl she poured the noodles in. To her surprise, he was digging in as soon as she handed him the food. "Christ, don't tell me your dad doesn't feed you?"

Kids who went to Westberg High typically came from some sort of money or at the very least lived in relative comfort.

"It's good." JD scarfed down the lo mein. "Dad and me don't cook much."

"What do you eat?"

"Whatever, whenever."

Mel put a hand to her face. "Good lord, I just realized I kidnapped you."

"Hm?"

"How old are you again?"

"Seventeen."

"Kid, if the cops know you're here-oh shit, your dad probably called a missing kid's report! Shit." Mel cursed lowly. "I didn't even think….I can be charged as a kidnapper!"

JD snorted. "No you won't."

"Yes, I will! You're underage, I should have found a way to send you home or called your dad or the cops, oh dammit it all Mel, look what you got yourself into…."

While she paced back and forth, JD watched in amusement as he slurped up the greasy noodles.

"Look, Mel, you don't have anything to worry about." JD put his bowl on the table. "My dad isn't filing any report. He's passed out drunk and even if he wasn't, he wouldn't care. As long as I don't squeal and tell the cops, who aren't coming, about you having me stay, you're in the clear."

Mel stopped. "What?"

"You've got nothing to worry about."

"No, what the hell did you say?"

JD felt his smile give way to a frown. "What?"

"He didn't call the cops?! You could be anywhere right now! Dead in a ditch, run over, lost, mugged-" Mel hugged herself and took a long breath; she couldn't seem to make sense of it all. "Are you saying if he was up and knew you were gone, he wouldn't do anything? Nothing?"

JD shrugged and Mel nodded vaguely.

"You don't say…"

"So, hate to take advantage of hospitality, but I don't suppose you have anywhere I can sleep?"

"Yes...oh yeah, you can take the bed tonight. If you don't mind, I'd like to be near the front door in case you try to run off in the middle of the night. Maybe your dad is fine with letting you roam around, but you're here now, and I'm sure as shit not going to risk you getting killed in a hit and run_! Okay, wait. Okay, I'm sorry." Mel took a deep breath and stopped herself from raising her voice anymore. "You must be tired."

"Eh."

Mel took one look at him and laughed; she kept smiling in a strained, half dazed sort of way as she pushed her hair off her forehead.

"What in the fuck….what in the actual fuck did I get myself into?" Mel looked back at JD, who was sitting comfortably as he witnessed her break down. "No offense to you kid, this isn't your fault but….holy shit, this is warped…wait, what about school? Do you need bus fare? And your books, you don't have them-"

"Does Sherwood have school on Saturdays?"

Mel blinked and let out another hiccup of a laugh. "No. Oh boy, sorry, I'm still half drunk and wondering if this is a hallucination of being an accidental kidnapper...this is primo outrageous shit right here…"

"Shit happens."

Mel nodded. "Yeah...oh god, sorry. Here I am bugging out and you're the one who was going to spend the night out on a bus bench."

"I would've gone back in the morning or so."

"Back?" Mel looked horrified. "Are you serious? You can't go back!"

"I didn't leave because I was scared ma'am." JD smiled wryly. "But I didn't need my old man hassling me. Anyway, I'm not defenseless you know. I popped him a few good ones that helped him pass out in the first place."

"Oh." Mel shook her head quickly. "No, not just 'oh'! You shouldn't have to fend him off or escape your own house! Isn't there anyone you can go to? Isn't there one relative close by? You could visit them, stay over-"

"No can do. They're all out of state. My old man's kin isn't much better than him and my mom's hate him for driving her off the deep end." JD just stared impassively at her incredulous face. "You are most definitely freaked."

"No shit." Mel mumbled. "Well...I can't tell you what to do, but do me a solid and stay here, just for the night? I couldn't sleep knowing you're out there."

JD blinked and Mel sighed heavily.

"Come on, let me show you the bathroom."

Mel led JD down a short hallway to a tiny bathroom with a shower and a toilet and a sink sort of scrunched up together in what looked more like a cubicle than anything else. The room was more spacious, but it was clearly only meant for one person; it was clean at least.

"Here's an extra blanket," Mel took a neatly folded quilt from the closet. "And if it's too hot just throw it off. If you need anything, just wake me up, and if I'm still asleep when you leave in the morning, wake me up, okay?"

"Did you make this? Looks homemade." JD took the quilt and shook it out; it was designed with pink and white patches and designed with hearts and loops. "Wow, pastel city."

"My grandma made it." Mel smiled a little. "Well, I guess that's it...are you still hungry?"

JD shook his head. "I do have a favor to ask."

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone about this. Any of it. It'd be a bit of a hassle for me." JD gave her a cocked sort of smile. "See, once I'm eighteen and graduated, I'll be able to start over. You didn't think I'd stick around with that mess?"

"No, but...what about now?"

He shrugged off his coat. "Sleep. You should probably hit the hay too Mel. And thanks again."

"Sure, I'm mostly over the shock...oh." Mel was halfway out the door. "What is your name?"

JD chuckled as he folded up his duster. "Jason Dean, at your service."

"Jason." Mel repeated; she smiled suddenly. "I love that name."

JD didn't have a response, so he sat down on the edge of the bed and just smiled. It was strange. For a moment Mel looked almost sad.

"Well, I hope...I mean, you seem like you're handling this all very well, way better than my spazz attack..." Mel told JD as she scratched her throbbing head.

"Anyhow...please, promise you'll wake me up before you go? I don't care if it's in the morning or not, just whenever."

"Can do." JD saluted her.

Mel nodded and offered a smile. "Goodnight then."

Once he heard her footsteps go down to the living room, JD kicked off his boots and laid back on the bed. Lumpy and sunken in, it still felt twice as comfortable than his.

 _"Definitely not in Kansas anymore….or Boston...or Vegas."_

JD looked at the quilt; not his style, but it felt soft. He quietly sighed and took a look around the room. Tidy, but lived in. Most of the furniture looked old and used; the carpet was worn and the walls needed a fresh coat of paint. The closet had clothes hung and folded and tossed to the floor. A cotton bra hung by the straps on a wire hanger. There was a small TV positioned on a small bookcase crammed with paperbacks. JD hadn't even bothered to unpack yet and he doubted he'd need to unpack much of anything when he did get around to it.

 _"This is quite the turn of events. First day and I made friends with the lady who works at 7-Eleven and gets wasted on Friday nights. It's like something from a folk rock song."_

JD half smirked to himself and buried his head in the pillow, making a slight face into it; the case smelled faintly like sweat and some flowery shampoo.

Mel didn't see it. Maybe she was too drunk or too busy trying to get a handle on what was happening. She was obviously inebriated; in JD's experience, drunk people did not typically have enough sense to worry over things. Especially not random kids they had just met that day at the local 7-Eleven.

Adults especially, sober or drunk or otherwise, seem to care. The only person who had ever cared about him was his mother, but then, if she cared that much, would she have left him alone?

JD stared at the ceiling and breathed in and out slowly.

Mel was so angry too. If his dad had come to get him, if he had come with police to fetch him, would she have stood there and not gotten herself involved? Mel looked ready to smack something the second JD mentioned Bud not giving much of a damn where he was, but was that something people would normally get mad over? Sure, he was seventeen, but he wasn't actually a child.

 _"She's not technically an adult either; she's only a few years older than me."_

JD was struck with a question he had never thought before: how old was his mother when she stepped inside that building? JD himself was so young then; she looked young too, she couldn't have been much older than Mel. A mother at that age, barely holding on. But in that case, couldn't she have held onto him at the very least, just a little longer? Just until JD was ready to let go?

Of course, he knew he would have never done such a thing; JD sneered at how disposable people were to his peers, how easy it was to turn their backs on the people they supposedly cared for.

 _"A shit storm of epic proportions."_ JD surmised as he covered himself with the quilt. Mel must have been raised by a very different breed of people than the ones he was saddled with. It was clear from her reactions.

JD wondered what Mel's reaction would be like if he left now while she was passed out. He'd probably get an earful on Monday or whenever he decided to visit his favorite hang out spot.

But he could think later. Tonight JD settled for falling asleep, feeling at more at ease in this stranger's bed than anywhere else he had ever been.


	3. Here I Go Again

JD had a plan in mind before the sun rose in the sky; he was an early riser naturally and if Mel looked as drunk as she seemed, he'd be able to walk out the front door and leave without being seen.

Actually, that was the first plan. The better one was to wake up early while Mel was still sleeping and make something special to cure her hangover.

It wasn't anything personal. Mel was great and all, but JD knew for all that kindness, it was likely blinded with that 'adult's know best' superiority. JD knew what would happen; Mel would go back on what she said and call the police or child protective services; worst case scenario, JD would get thrown in some group home or passed off to a foster home until he was eighteen and they didn't give a shit anymore.

Maybe Mel would assume it was for the best, but that didn't make it right. JD was not a child. He had already adapted: he knew what lines not to cross with Bud and, despite what Mel might have thought, physical skirmishes weren't frequent. If that was the case, JD was strong enough now to hold his own against a man who even sober was a slow hitter and easily winded.

As things were now, JD could go for a walk, clear his own head, and go back and the next morning when things would inevitably resume how they were; JD honestly doubted Bud even remembered half the things he said or did while drunk.

It was just bad luck that JD managed to run into a familiar face in the late hours, a blip in the routine that he had no choice but to deal with. No more disruptions, no more adapting. And no one had seen Mel take him home; she lived alone and JD was certain she had passed out right after leaving him to sleep without calling anyone to tell them of her unexpected house guest. JD wouldn't have been surprised if the very first thing Mel did when she came to was to spill the beans. It really was a shame to have to get rid of someone who had standards and a moral compass, but those were the breaks.

When JD finally woke up, it was not from the light streaming into the half pulled opened curtains or the slight chill he felt from apparently knocking the quilt off his body in the middle of the night or even the panic that seized him when he realized with how bright out it was. The time was likely closer to noon than five in the morning, though for that second between complete lucidity and sleep, JD had no idea where he was or why that mattered. When he was roused to leave his comfortable slumber, it was due to the smell of sausages cooking.

 _"Mom?"_

JD frowned in his half conscious state, vaguely aware that his eyes were closed; the more he tried to think and bring his cognitive senses to the forefront, he could nudge himself to total consciousness.

When JD pried open his eyes, he couldn't help feel disappointed. He shook his head and laughed in soft disbelief at his own thoughts before taking a look around. The clock on the night stand said ten.

"Good morning." Mel smiled over her shoulder at JD lingering in the doorway; he had decided it wasn't too late to put his plan in action, but to his anxiety, she looked perfectly fine, no hangover to speak of. He pulled up a seat at the table and ran a hand over his hair, trying to think of what he could do.

"Don't worry, I didn't call anyone."

JD's eyes snapped up to Mel; her back was to him and she was scraping the burnt spots off the toast into the sink.

"Thanks for not leaving when I fell asleep." Mel told him. "I did some thinking this morning. I wanted to talk to you." she grinned lopsidedly. "I thought you might be bribed with more food in exchange for hearing me out?"

"If you insist." JD kept a calm smile on his face as Mel set a plate down in front of him loaded with toast, eggs, sausage, and a bagel. He watched in growing disbelief as she set down a jar of jelly, a butter dish, and a container of milk and orange juice in front of him.

"Wow, this is better than Denny's."

"You know it." Mel gave him a cocky grin as she pulled up a chair by him; her face resumed a more sober look. "Did you sleep okay?"

JD nodded, his mouth full with jelly smeared toast.

"Jason, you know, when I was just about as young as you when I ran off. During my senior year of school; folks kicked me out to give me incentive to get better grades." Mel smiled dully. "And, being the prideful little brat I was, I didn't just go out for a few hours. I packed some food, some clothes and things, a knife, and stole some money right under their noses. I hitchhiked to Sherwood from three towns over. For a month I was avoiding cops and just laying low in parks and under bridges like some troll. Even if I wanted to suck up my pride and go home, I knew my folks didn't want me back. As far as I know, they couldn't care less what had happened to me and I never got the urge to contact them."

JD looked on expectantly as Mel took a long sip of her coffee. "So, how'd you end up here? Don't tell me you meant to come to Sherwood?"

"No, just happened. I was out of money and food and nowhere to go. I was sleeping on a prostitute's couch for a week in the last town. Heard she died of AIDs a year later." Mel said. "Anyway, I ended up at Sheila's and she won me over really quick. Next thing you know, we had a fake ID made so I could work there and when I turned eighteen, her and her husband's gift to me was this house."

"They just gave you this house? You're kidding."

"Nope, it's all paid off. Funny story actually." Mel scratched her cheek. "You see, Sheila thinks her mom is still here. I only met her a few times, nice lady; she founded Sheila's."

JD nodded. "Ah, so she named it after her daughter."

"Oh no, Sheila was her name. Betty is her daughter, but now that she owns the bar, everyone just calls her Sheila." Mel shrugged. "Well, she got this idea that her mom's ghost is still around here, but I couldn't tell you if it was true. Personally, I haven't seen any freaky stuff or things moving around."

"Why not just sell this place?"

"Nah, Sheila couldn't bring herself to get rid of it." Mel smiled softly. "And she said I should have a place of my own; I pay her rent and the utilities, but other than that, it's in my name now if something happens to her or Gary. The husband." Mel added at JD's confusion. "He runs the 7-Eleven; I switch between working at both places."

"And on Fridays you party."

"You betcha." Mel winked and raised her cup. "Of course, Sheila and Gary don't like me drinking too much. See, their kids are alcoholics, both of them are off who knows where. I guess part of the reason they took me in was because they saw a second chance in me."

"And you didn't have anywhere else to go? No family or friends?"

"Not any that were much better than my folks. Besides, the idea at the time was to just run. Go as far as I could." Mel smiled self deprecatingly. "Jason, I can tell right now you're twice as smart as me. The only reason I survived was dumb luck and good timing. I trust that you'd probably be a lot more capable on your own, which is one of two reasons I'm not going to get too involved with what's going on with your dad."

JD rolled his eyes as he dipped his sausages in the egg yolk. "Oh yeah? And just what's the second reason?"

Mel smiled wanly. "You keep this."

She took one of his hands and pressed something small and cold in his palm; JD frowned as he looked at the key.

"You...well, you remind me a bit of myself. I don't want you to do what I did. I did okay, but that was all a matter of chance. Do you realize how easy it would have been for something to happen to you last night? I know the folks around here are kinda out of it, things go over their heads and your dad sounds like he couldn't give a rat's ass if you went missing."

"So...what is this for?"

"On the days when you don't have anywhere to go, or even if you just want a break from your dad or if things get too...if they get to a place where you are scared and need to leave, I want you to come here."

JD stared blankly at Mel for a long moment.

"It's not like there's anything worth stealing here and I can't just ignore what's happening." Mel told him with a shaky breath. "Now, fair warning, I have to tell Sheila and Gary."

JD stood up so fast the chair knocked over and crashed to the floor. "Then no deal."

"Hold on a second! Look, they need to know who you are in case they come by and see some kid hanging around." Mel told him as she rose up herself and picked up the key he had tossed to the floor. "And they won't say anything. They'll understand. They took me in and my situation wasn't nearly as bad at home. My parents never hit me or nothing, they just...they just didn't like me."

Mel looked up at him pleadingly and took his hands; she unfurled one of his fists and made it close back over the key.

"Jason, you just gotta trust me. I was lucky enough to find people who gave half a shit. Do you think my parents ever filed a missing kid report? The school didn't care an underage dropout was off their roster. No one blinked an eye. I've been there Jason. And I was stupid. But you're a smart kid and if you stopped to think about this...either way I can't let you walk out of here unless I know you'll agree to this. All I'm asking is you come here so if things get too bad, you'll be safe. Can't you trust me?"

JD looked down at the key in his palm instead of Mel's face. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Mel asked. "Why did I get a second chance? Why'd anyone bother to fight for me?" she laughed and shook her head. "I used to ask myself until even beer couldn't get my mind off it. Why does anyone help anyone?"

"You're the adult. Shouldn't you have an idea?"

"Jason, I think you'd realize by now adults can be pretty fucking stupid too."

"You're not stupid."

Mel shrugged and let go of his hands as she took a step back. "I never finished school. I didn't ever work for my potential. I just ran away, and by some miracle, I'm here now. It could have gone so badly."

 _"I could have killed you this morning if the bed wasn't so comfortable."_ JD took in her somber face. This was his chance. She was vulnerable. She knew he was stronger.

He knew no one else knew she wasn't alone.

JD's fingers twitched; Mel looked so sad. She'd be sleeping peacefully in a minute. His hands reached out to her neck and she looked up in surprise.

"Jason?"

Mel was nearly put off balance as JD draped his arms around her shoulders, key still clutched in his shaking fist.

"Jason?"

"You're crazy, you know that? Letting a stranger in your house, giving them the keys to it. You're too trusting, that's your damage."

Mel put her arms around JD's back; she began moving her hand up and down his spine. It was the same way Sheila had held her after hearing her whole pathetic little sob story. Mel's own mother had never held her in such a way, like she was trying to comfort her, like she even _was_ her mother.

"If you wanted to steal something or hurt me you'd have done it by now instead of wolfing down eggs and sausage." Mel said gently. "Come on kid, it's okay. I won't screw you over and if I do, you can call the cops and say I kidnapped you."

JD let out a thick chuckle and pulled back after running a hand over his face. "I'll keep that in mind ma'am."

"Oh come on, I'm not that old." Mel laughed. "Mel is fine enough."

"I like Mel. It's different."

"It's mine." Mel shrugged and checked her watch. "Yikes, I have to leave for work. Those slushies won't sell themselves."

JD stood awkwardly as she picked up her purse from the table and cleared the dishes.

"Now be honest, is your dad expecting you back by now?"

"Maybe. He usually sleeps it off until noon. But he won't care where I am unless it's late today."

Mel nodded stiffly; JD smiled. She was trying to not bad mouth Bud, but it couldn't have been more obvious how pissed she still was.

"Alright. I don't have much, but there's some odds and ends to eat if you get hungry. And lock the door, okay? I'll let Sheila and Gary know I have a house guest, though they shouldn't be coming over today for anything." Mel took a moment before she walked out the door. "The TV gets twenty channels, most static. If there's an emergency, call the 7-Eleven. I won't be off until six, but I can come back if something bad is going down."

"Okay." JD inwardly grimaced; his vocabulary was leaving him to grasp at straws, but really, he had no clue what else he could say.

"Okay." Mel smiled crookedly. "See you Jason. Think about what I said."

JD was left in the middle of the living room, still in a sort of daze.

A woman he had met just the other day had given him an escape; Mel had poured her heart out to a stranger without hesitation.

 _"Why would she do all this to help me?"_

And then it hit JD like a ton of bricks. It was like he could suddenly see light in a thick fog.

 _"So, that's how it's gonna be."_

JD went to the pantry. There was barely anything to make a decent meal out of, but he didn't survive seventeen years without knowing where to get food or being able to cook. He pulled on his duster and took out his wallet to make sure he had cash; while whistling an aimless tune, JD went outside, locking the door behind him before strolling down to the mini mart he had glimpsed down the street. After that, he'd go retrieve his hidden bike buried in thistles and brush out in the cemetery; JD really had meant to just go for a walk outside his neighborhood. But it seems once again, his plans had changed.

 _"'Nothing can be done except little by little.'"_ J. D. reminded himself as he slowed down his speedy gait. It wasn't a race after all, and if he took his time and thought before acting, it would all work out. Now wasn't the time to go on blind instincts. All it would take was a careful hand and a clear mind.

He smiled as his head began to thaw.


	4. Baby, I Don't Know Where You've Been

_"Always got the cops coming after me, custom built bike doing 103~"_

"That'd be eleven dollars and forty five cents. Just regular gas, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you're all set." Mel smiled as she handed over the pack of Twinkies; it was interesting what people bought with their gas. She felt like it said a little something about them.

The guy looked like he just got done at the office, been dragged through the coals, and needed a quick fix of sugar. A familiar sight as any; Twinkies were the classics to get. She entertained herself by guessing he was the kind of guy who liked the classics. Maybe he was a Sinatra fan.

The man offered a sort of smile. "Thanks."

"Thank you, and come again." Mel broke out of her reverie and waved as he walked out the door, the sounds of Nikki Sixx shredding on guitar followed him out as she turned up her radio and played the drums with imaginary sticks.

"Maybe that's your problem."

"Gary, not when my tunes are on." Mel swung her hips to and fro and bobbed her head. "My, heart, my heart, kick start my heart! Come on, take it away Gary!"

"..."

"Maybe you're more a Zeppelin guy? Oh right, you think my music is-what'd ya call it? A travesty?" Mel teased him and continued to move side to side as the song went to the guitar solo. "How about a mix from your time, old man? I can jam to some 'Jailhouse Rock'." she began wiggling her hips in an exaggerated fashion. "We can blast the past and I can shake my pelvis like Elvis!"

Gary crossed his arms and glared, evidently not appreciating her humor.

"Or not." Mel let her arms fall to her side; she sighed before turning the volume down again.

"You done?"

"So Gary," Mel asked in her best monotone as she leaned over the counter. "What would my problem be?" she lowered her voice in a stage whisper. "Aside from getting my song interrupted…."

The older man shuffled around the window with a Big Gulp sized cup. "You keep letting strangers just waltz in places."

"Wait, that guy was a paying customer." Mel smirked. "Are you saying I should have shaken my fist and told him not to let the door hit his ass on the way out?"

"It's a metaphor, it doesn't have to make sense."

Mel pursed her lips and reached for a candy bar. "Get real Gary, you've been giving me the third degree ever since I mentioned this kid."

"Hey, put that down. You just had three."

"I didn't like the others."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that why the only thing left is wrappers?"

Mel shrugged and took a bite of her candy. "Well there's no need to waste them." she chewed thoughtfully. "Mm. Fourth time's the charm."

Gary crossed his arms and slurped his soda. "Watch it. You're on thin ice already Laney."

"Thin ice? Gary, come on! Sheila said if I ever wanted to invite someone over it was no one else's business but mine."

"Yeah, a visitor, a temporary guest. Not a boarder. And how do you know that kid isn't looting the place or-or inviting his buddies or something?"

"One, that kid got here yesterday and he doesn't know a soul. Trust me, if you met him, you'd know." Mel looked contemplative. "I mean, he's not a bad kid, but there's...I don't know. Something's off. He's a bit strange, the way he talks."

"Surprise, surprise." Gary scoffed. "All you kids sound like you're speaking another language."

"Not like that. I mean, I can see this guy quoting Fred Nietzcha or whatever."

"Friedrich Nietzsche."

"What kind of name is that?"

"German you dunce." Gary stared at her. "Christ kid, did you learn anything in school?"

"Hey, I left junior year, remember poindexter?"

Gary put down his cup and went over to take a pack of peanuts from the rack outside the window. "Listen smart ass, I dropped out too, but that's no excuse to not pick up a book once in blue moon. Maybe if you didn't listen to so much garbage you'd have room in that empty skull for some culture."

"Music is culture thank you very much." Mel stole a sip of Gary's drink to wash down the candy. "Ew, diet?"

Gary gave her a look of disbelief, a handful of peanuts halfway to his mouth. "Get your own then." he picked up the cup and made a face at the straw; the tip was shiny and pink. "Dammit you got your lip crap on it too"

Mel shrugged her shoulders and took out a compact mirror to check her lip gloss. "Didn't you say you wanted me to be more ladylike or something?" she flashed him a winning smile; there was melted chocolate on one of her teeth. "I think I fit the bill."

"I don't know if globbing on lip crap and stealing sips of other people's soda fits the bill."

"Oh please, Sheila said it looked good and she wears way more makeup than I could stand. Plus, it tastes better than diet Coke." Mel frowned and bared her teeth as she wiped off the candy bits.

"Shelly looks good in anything." Gary said with a rare absent smile; it dropped as he gave her a once over. "And maybe you should be switching to diet."

Mel gawked at him. "Um, rude much?"

"Is this coming from the kid who just stole my drink?" Gary rolled his eyes to the ceiling at her scandalized pout. "I'm not saying you're fat dammit, but you can stand to eat a bit better. If you're going to cram in the junk while you work, might as well go for a lesser evil."

Mel smiled in exasperation. "Yeah, yeah, go complain to Fred about it. But like I said, the kid would probably know who you're griping about." she went to get a drink of diet root beer. "Anyway Gary, back to topic. Jason's not some hood. He's all alone and there's no place for him to go." Mel sent him a half smile. "Sound familiar?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"You're a girl. No offense, but it's typically men who've mugged me in the past. Well, no, that's not right." Gary backtracked. "There was that one lady who ran off with my bonus and my best pair of cuff links while I was passed out…" he shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts. "But it's still different!"

"Oh my god, sexist much?" Mel put her hands on her hips. "Gary, women are just as capable of pulling a gun out on someone. Hell, remember when Sheila had to toss out that one bum who couldn't pay his tab?"

"Okay, okay, I get it Rosie the Riveter." Gary told her with a defeated sigh. "But it's still different for you. Sheila's a fighter."

Mel smiled; it was hard to miss the note of pride in Gary's voice.

"Sheila's bomb."

"Heh, yeah…" Gary started to smile but frowned when he saw Mel's knowing grin. "But you're about as intimidating as a spaniel."

"Oh brother." Mel shook her head and sucked at her straw, biting the plastic habitually. "You'll take in strange women and stray dogs foaming at the mouth, but a beaten up seventeen year old boy is off limits?"

"Boy? Laney, that kid's practically a man. When I was his age I already worked full time." Gary said dismissively as he plucked one of the ice cubes out of the bottom of his cup.

"You dropped out to help your mom. If you ask me, you didn't have much choice but to grow up."

"A man does what needs to be done." Gary said resolutely.

"Not all men." Mel said soberly. "If that was true, the kid's dad would have the cops crawling all over town to find his him. Gary, how could I let him go back? Part of me doesn't want him to leave my sight. What if that guy gets too drunk and it isn't just a punch next time, what if-?"

"Whoa, let's put the brakes on that thought." Gary put a hand on her shoulder; she was practically hyperventilating. "You said this kid was able to fight right? And when things got too much of a hassle he ran, right?"

"Well, yeah."

Gary nodded. "That's smart. You need to know when enough is enough. This guy sounds a lot tougher than you might think."

"Maybe, but Gary, I can't even imagine how he must be feeling right now. I mean, not even a pen pal to talk to this about? His mom's dead, no relatives to turn to and the only person to count on is a drunk asshole? Why hasn't anyone done anything about this?!"

"I couldn't say." Gary told her calmly. "I know you're doing more than enough for someone he just met."

Mel chanced a weak smile and toyed with her straw. "It's hard not to empathize. I know I'm being ridiculous. I don't know a thing about him aside from what he's told me." she lowered her voice as a group of middle schoolers came in and attacked the candy aisle. "I guess it is crazy. Am I just that gullible?"

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying this is a...difficult situation and I just hope you're not letting your personal feelings get in the way." Gary paused to print out a receipt for the boys. "Easy kid, you'll get a heart attack before you're ten."

"I'm twelve?"

"You sure? Well, that's what happens when you only eat crap, stunts your growth." Gary turned back to Mel as the boy sent him a brief disgruntled glare before running outside. "So...what was I talkin' about again? Right, feelings and crap. So what I mean is, if nothing else, you've got good street smarts."

"Thanks."

"That being said, the worst thing you can do is ignore your instincts." Gary stood to his full height and looked her in the eye. "Be honest with me Laney; is there anything about this kid that makes you...I don't, what do you kids say nowadays? Making you trip."

"Close I guess...but no. Like, after what he's been going through, it's expected he might be a bit far out there compared to some kids his age." Mel shrugged. "Sheila used to say I was eighteen going on thirty."

"Now you're twenty three going on pain in my ass."

Mel grinned. "So I wasn't always?"

"No, you were. It's just more pronounced now. But, like you and Shelly say, it's your house. You pay rent-"

"With the money I get from you two."

"You work fucking hard for it too. You know damn well I would toss your ass out if I didn't get the results deserved." Gary said firmly; Mel flushed with a little smile and continued to drink to avoid saying anything. "I can't tell you what to do as far as this is concerned. But if the cops do get a call from his pop about some lady kidnapping his boy, you keep me and my wife's name out of it. This is your decision and you are a lady now. I hope you just realize what the consequences can be if things don't go as planned."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Gary, the cops here are total dip shits. But I guess that's what happens when the biggest problems in a town is cow tipping."

But she knew that even if the police decided to do their job, Gary and Sheila would fight for her tooth and nail. Still, Mel really wasn't that worried now the immediate panic was over. Most people minded their own business anyway; no one wanted to get involved, cause waves, or otherwise do anything to intervene on matters that didn't concern them. It was funny how similar this town was to her old one; it was like she hadn't really gone anywhere.

"Is he there now?"

"No, I don't think so." Mel told Gary as she made a face at the cigarettes she had to organize. "God these are rank. How can anyone stand to smoke them?"

"Maybe it's the same reason someone can down a shot of whiskey even if it burns going down."

"That's different. Drinking in moderation is just a good time. Smoking doesn't give you anything but a shot lung and bad skin eventually."

"You're preaching to the choir. You know, if I had the lung power to sing." Gary cackled and let out a brief cough; he had actually quit some ten years ago, but the after effects weren't kind to him. Mel wondered if he'd even be alive in front of her if he was still smoking two packs a day.

"Gary, be real with me. If, like, you were me, what would you have done?" Mel asked tentatively.

He was silent for a long few seconds before letting out a slow, rueful smile. "I guess about the same thing, man or woman or whatever. Now, I'd be a hell of a lot more careful about it," he added with a meaningful look; Mel rolled her eyes. "But, yeah. I would have done about the same. I hope that kid realizes how much you're sticking your neck out for him. Christ, possible illegal implications if the wrong asshole finds out, possibility he's whacked out, all kinds of shit that could get you in hot water."

"I just hope I'm doing the right thing."

Gary crumpled up his empty bag and tossed it in the trash. "You're doing what you can. It's about all we can do in this world."

Mel smiled cockily. "That was legit Gary. Put that on a bumper sticker, spread the word."

"Yeah, yeah." Gary frowned dryly and ran a hand roughly through his steel gray wisps of hair; it was that action that probably made him lose it so fast. "Ya know, I knew the second you mentioned it Shelly would go for this idea. She's already calling to ask if you wanted her to pack him some wings or shit to go."

"That's sweet of her, but he's probably long gone. I have to say, wings do sound good. Don't know if he can digest shit though." Mel clocked out and checked her purse to make sure she had everything.

"Bullshit maybe." he said ominously. "Watch out for yourself."

"See you Gary!" Mel grinned as she walked out the door, making the little bell ring cheerfully.

Sometimes she wondered how Gary got together with Sheila; from what he had told her, his luck with women had been awful before then. Maybe the whole opposites attract thing had a grain of truth to it; Mel was certainly luckier in that department though. She may not have found the salt to her pepper, but the dates she had in the past didn't ever blow up in her face. There was just no one she had ever connected to, not like Gary did with Sheila. There wasn't anyone she knew who could read her thoughts before she could say them, like they were in sync. It could be worse though; she could have fallen in with a sneak who stole her cuff links.

Now that she really thought about it, they were the only really happy couple she had ever seen. Kids who came into the 7-Eleven seemed to be with each other just to have someone to hold hands with or someone to hang off on to not look like losers. Married couples tended to look tired and drained as they grabbed their gas and Slim Jims and booked it. Mel's own parents only seemed united in their disapproval.

Working in a 7-Eleven and a bar was the best way to see all kinds of people; after all, everyone liked to eat and drink, get a Big Gulp with their regular gas load ups, etc. Frequently she saw regulars, but before JD stopped in, she had never actually interacted with them in such a way.

 _"I definitely never let anyone crash in my room and give them my keys."_ Mel thought tiredly; Gary was kind enough to run to the nearest hardware store to give her another copy. _"Hell, I've never brought a guy over at all, let alone a stray kid."_

But even so, it didn't feel wrong. The only thing that sort of unsettled Mel was how JD talked sometimes; not the eloquent prose or the easy wit he seemed to add into every other sentence. It was how he talked about himself. His mother, his father, his troubles.

All the things a normal kid would be griping about or angry about, JD spoke of like it was all in a day's work to fight off his drunken, apathetic father and escape from his home into an unfamiliar area of town in the dead of night. He brushed off her concerns, waved off any worries.

Mel frowned to herself; she thought of how she was walking to her own safe and secure home, no more worrying about parents yelling or glaring or browbeating her at every turn. JD was going home to who knows what, despite his careless insistence nothing would happen he couldn't handle. The closest he came to raw emotion was just before she left and even then he had pulled himself together pretty quickly.

 _"Maybe that's not too off. I mean, a seventeen year old boy isn't going to fall in piece in front of_ _some lady he just met."_ Mel reasoned as she turned the corner to see her house in the distance; suddenly she stopped in the middle of the street. "What the….?"

If her eyes weren't mistaken, there was a motorbike parked in her small driveway. Mel cautiously began walking again, eyes looking all around and looking for a stranded motorist or really anyone, but the street was clear of neighbors or strangers. Her nerves were still on edge when she was unlocking her door slowly, knife clutched in her fist as she burst into her own home.

Mel blinked rapidly, bag falling off her shoulder and knife nearly slipping from her grasp as she took in the state of her house.

"What the…?"

"Welcome home."


	5. Passion Starts to Rise

"You're going to catch flies."

Mel didn't seem to hear JD; she took another step into what seemed to be her living room, only a version that wasn't covered in a layer of dust, no grime in the carpet, or old stains on the walls. There was a vase of fake sunflowers in the middle of the coffee table and a smell of oregano wafting through the air.

"Earth to Mel."

"Jason...wow, did you do all this?"

JD gave her a cocky smile. "Just my little way of showing gratitude. Come into the kitchen."

Mel gasped when she poked her head into the entrance behind JD; the counters were wiped clean and smelled like lemons. The sink was dried of any excess water, the dish rack was cleared and the stove top of her oven was spotless, scrubbed of any grime or burn marks. The faded wooden table was wiped down as well and set with plates and forks and cups. In the very middle was a bowl of greens and cherry tomatoes; next to that was a serving pot with pasta covered in rich red sauce. Mel inhaled and found herself drooling.

"I may not have the best diet, but you didn't think I went through my whole life without knowing how to keep house, did you?" JD smirked at her loss of speech. "God knows Bud wasn't going to help out."

Mel was snapped from her admiration. "Wait, does your dad know-I mean, shouldn't you be home by now?"

JD shrugged. "I called him, said I spent the day hanging with a classmate and they invited me over for dinner."

"And he just believed you?"

"What can I say? I'm persuasive. And he's buzzed, so…" JD let her fill in the blanks. "And it's the least I can do."

"You really didn't have to do this. I mean, this is legit something out of a catalogue." Mel practically squealed at the roses in a glass vase on the table by the pasta. "Geez kid, what can't you do?"

"Stay in one spot for more than six weeks."

Mel frowned as he went to the pantry to grab a bottle of wine. "What?"

"Forget it. Sit down, take a load off." JD handed her a plate with a grin. "Get it while it's hot."

Mel smiled and let the subject drop as she began piling food on her plate. "This really does look good. Bet you're popular with the ladies, am I right?" she laughed. "God knows I'd like to meet a man who can manage to use a microwave. Like, you press two buttons and slide the frozen block of shit inside. Hell, even I know how to do that."

Mel slurped her noodles, frowning slightly and using the back of her hand to swipe off the smudge of sauce. "Hey, what is this?"

"Ragu, but with a twist."

"Twist?"

"Just 'spiced' things up."

Mel cackled. "Lame!"

"I'm a comedian." JD smiled as he began cutting up his own noodles with a fork and knife. "How was your day in the nuthouse?"

"What, work? It was fine, lots of people coming in for ice cream and crap. It's so hot out," Mel sighed as she poured herself a glass of wine she just realized was on the table next to the flowers. "Hey, what's merelot?"

"It's pronounced mer-low." JD sounded out the word as he sipped at his own glass of water. "It's wine."

"I know that much." Mel sniffed the drink curiously. "Huh, weird. I wasn't ever much of a wine drinker." she sipped and smacked her lips. A smudge of gloss painted the rim of the glass. "It's...bitter? But in a good way?"

"You just drank some. Don't you trust your own senses?"

"Sure, except Friday nights"

"Good thing, or I might not be here enjoying dinner with good company." JD raised his glass. "Cheers to responsible drinking."

"Wait, how'd ya get this?" Mel frowned suddenly as she studied the bottle; sometimes she forgot wine was straight up alcohol.

"Guy at the liquor counter doesn't check IDs."

"You're kidding? Jesus, what a dumb ass." Mel shook her head. "He's lucky you were just getting it for someone else. Be careful Jason. I'll be honest, an occasional beer or two at your age wouldn't do much, but you should at least wait a couple more years before getting into the stronger stuff. Don't do anything to jeopardize your education now. Hell, wait til you're out of college if you can."

"Yes ma'am." JD said with an odd half smile. "I can appreciate your candidness, but maybe you should watch out more for yourself."

"Eh, if I'm a drunk, what's the damage? A job at 7-Eleven? Not that I'd ever take what Sheila and Gary did for granted, but let's face it, I don't have nearly as much at stake as someone like you."

"Me?"

"You're young, cute, smart as hell, and tough." Mel swallowed a mouthful of pasta and burped. "And temporary or not, each record at your schools adds up if you do want to apply to college. If anything, those people will think you're the bomb."

JD's eyes glinted as he leaned back on his chair. "The bomb huh?"

"Totally. If they see that with all the moving around you still keep up your grades, they'll think, 'Hey, look at this kid! Look at this record, these report cards; he's smart and adaptable and has perseverance! We won't regret giving a scholarship grant to him!' Get what I'm saying?"

JD nodded absently; the thought had never actually occurred to him. High school seemed to repeat on an endless loop. But college? What kind of zoo would that be like?

"But I guess that's if you want to continue your education." Mel shrugged. "I'm sure you'll be fine whatever you do."

"You think so?"

"Sure." Mel said confidently. "If anything else, you can bag a nice girl someday and be one of the house husbands you see nowadays. I can just see you with a couple tykes, teaching them how to cook, how to pronounce shit."

"I don't know how good a parent would be if they teach their offspring to say curse words."

Mel smiled wryly. "Ha ha. Maybe you should be a comedian." she paused as half a strand of noodle hung from her mouth. "Hey, what about your dad's business? He is that Bud Dean guy, right? I heard his company was coming to town, but it wasn't until later I realized he was your old man. I mean, whatever your feelings toward him, I bet a smart guy like you could do a lot for a big company. People will always need to build stuff."

"Or demolish it."

"Yeah, that too." Mel conceded. "But all those vacant lots can have use. Sheila's used to be a vacant lot; before that, it was a church until the parish moved to another area in town." she cackled and almost spit up her food. "Dig that, a bar over holy grounds. And someone like you can make it happen too."

JD was silent as he finished his water; Mel felt a bit embarrassed. She wasn't used to having company, especially not teenagers. She decided to pipe down and let him have a moment of peace.

"What about you Mel?"

Mel coughed on her wine. "Whoa, sharp! Sorry what?"

"You, you, you." JD smiled as she wiped her face with a napkin. "What are your grand plans?"

"Oh, I like where I am. I'm not all that book smart. Besides, they can be a drag, but I do like working for Gary and Sheila." Mel smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I know they're not my blood family, but it sort of feels like it, so it's kind of fun to work for them. Plus, what'll you do if I don't work at 7-Eleven?"

"I guess I'll have to go to Shell."

"Those stuck up assholes." Mel winked. "But seriously, where'll you get your free Slurpees from if I'm gone?"

"I can pinch them." JD answered without a beat. "Or I'll switch to wine in it's absence."

"Oh, don't even joke, you brat." Mel flipped him off. "I mean it, if you get caught for underage drinking-"

"You'll put me in a time out?"

"I'll tell all the mini marts in town there's a rebel without a cause breaking into every place that serves slushies and they'll plaster your poster on every window."

JD smiled and settled back, hands supporting his head. "Wow, I've never heard that reference used so elaborately before."

"I have my moments." Mel said as she sucked up the rest of her plate; she sighed happily and patted her stomach. "Thanks a lot, that's just what I needed after today. Hey, tell you what,"

JD eyed her curiously as she stood up and cleared their plates; Mel's cheeks were flushed, but from the wine or from being pleased was anyone's guess.

"I'll treat you to a Slurpee before you go. A little dessert for the ride back. That is your bike right?"

"Yes indeed." JD moved gracefully from his chair to the kitchen, eyes still trained on her back. "I take it I'm in charge of transportation?"

"Well, you'll need to take your bike back since you're going home." Mel said, still turned around and unable to see his expression. "Oh, but will we both fit?"

"If you hang on and lean with me." JD told her with a dismissive tone. "Trust me, it's as easy as riding a regular bike."

"Is it? Never got around to figuring that one out either." Mel said absently; this time she could see his face and the incredulous smirk on his lips.

"Did you move here from Mars?"

"No, Hell." Mel said innocently before bursting into laughter. "You need to do anything else before we go?"

There was a long, lingering moment of silence as JD stared at her. Mel waited and tried to look neutral, but his unreadable look was a bit off putting. After another moment, she felt worried. Was JD anxious about going home? Was there something else he hadn't told her about the situation?

"Nah. But you know, I think I'll get cherry flavor this time." JD sidestepped her and walked briskly to the front door as he took his keys from his duster pocket. "What's your poison?"

"Mild peanut and seasonal allergies."

JD was about to chuckle, but he could tell the term had gone over her head. He waited.

"Oh!" Mel laughed carelessly at the mix up. "I love lemonade. Can't stand stuff that's too sweet, but tart and sour I can eat all day."

JD locked the door behind them, giving her a subdued smile as he mounted the bike and motioned for her to get on the back. "Here, put this on."

Mel handed back the helmet. "Jason, you're the minor here and you're the driver. It's more likely if we get in an accident, you're the one who'll get the head injury."

"Pearls before swine, ma'am."

Mel shook her head with a half smile as JD thrust the helmet forward; she fastened it around her chin and settled in behind him, praying she wouldn't get bucked off.

"You have to hold on to-" JD paused as her arms looped around his waist. "Hold on tight, I mean. It'll be easier to lean with me."

"Okay."

JD didn't miss the note of hesitancy in Mel's voice; with a slow smirk he turned the keys and flipped his fringe to the side of his face while he revved the engine. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"No. I trust you, but you pay attention to the road, some of these people couldn't drive a bumper car."

"Yes ma'am."

The whole ride consisted of uncomfortably tight squeezing and hands clinging to JD's stomach like a cat hanging onto a tree limb as Mel muttered pleas for survival under her breath, face practically buried between his shoulder blades. JD would have laughed, but seeing her knees shaking as she descended onto the sidewalk in front of 7-Eleven while she gave him a bracing smile made him feel it would just be too cruel.

"Sorry Jason, hope I didn't scratch you."

She did actually; that's how hard her nails were digging in.

"Not a one." JD held open the door and did a short bow. "Shall we?"

Mel's smile grew as she approached the counter. "Hey Gary! What the hell, thought your shift was over?"

"Kid had a family emergency." Gary shrugged his broad shoulder and stopped over to continue scraping gum off under the ledge of the purchase counter. JD stood beside Mel but didn't say anything.

"Gary, this is Jason, the kid I told you about?" Mel introduced. "You won't believe this kid, I get home and he made me food to thank me, even cleaned up!" she beamed at JD and playfully shook his shoulder. "Have you heard of anything so sweet? Told you he wasn't a punk."

"Yeah, yeah, are you here to brag about the guy or pay for something?"

"Actually, I was going to treat Jason to a slushie." Mel retorted.

Gary stood up slowly and bent over to crack his back; his narrow eyes landed on JD. " Jason, right?"

"Yes sir, Jason Dean, but most people just call me JD."

"Okay, that'll be easier to remember."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Jason, this is Gary, he's happy to meet you."

"Yeah, I'm clicking my heels. Listen kid, Laney wouldn't shut up about how great you were and I trust her judgement, so know I don't care if you two have an arrangement, but know that house was my wife's and if anything gets damaged, you'll have me to answer to."

"Of course, that's fair." JD kept a smile on his features and Gary seemed satisfied for the time being.

"Okay, just wanted to make things transparent."

"There's that million dollar vocab." Mel stuck her tongue out at Gary. "We're gonna get our shit and be out of your hair, don't worry."

Gary sent them both a look before turning back to his chore.

"He's delightful."

Mel noticed JD kept his voice low. "Don't give it another thought. Gary is all bark and no bite. I mean, unless you really fuck up, but other than that, he's harmless."

"My worries are alleviated." JD said as he picked out the cherry flavor; he felt a warmth in his chest as he watched the melted ice slide into the cup, his fingers already feeling the freeze from the outside of the cup. He capped it with a lid and took out another empty cup. "May I?"

"Yeah, sure." Mel was wandering off down the aisle where the bathroom was located on the side of the car appliances. "You hear that?"

"Hm?"

"I said, did you hear that just now?"

JD spread out his arms with a comical grin. "Hark. The angel sings."

Mel sent him a look before turning her ear back to the bathroom. "Hold on Jason, I'll be right back."

"Okay, but this thing will melt fast." JD shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the machine to drink his own slushie. "Of course, then it'd just be juice."

Mel ignored him; she made her way down the aisle, bypassing two girls who were chatting loudly, her ears straining. Gary wasn't too far away, but his focus was on the task of peeling off dried gum; but Mel was more than certain now as she approached the closed door to the woman's bathroom. She pressed her ear against the door and knocked.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there?"

Mel stepped back slightly at the sound of the toilet flushing; the sink was running now and she frowned worriedly, rapping her knuckles over the door once again.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

The faucet was turned off and she heard light steps; Mel moved away just as the door was swung open. A girl with slightly wet eyes wiped the side of her mouth with a paper towel before tossing it aside.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I heard a lot of gagging."

She gave Mel a cool once over as she wiped the perspiration from her forehead. "Oh, so you work here? Don't tell me you're going to, like, kick me out for using the toilet are you?"

"No-"

"Heather, could you be more pathetic?" The taller girl waiting down the aisle didn't even glance over while she checked her nails. "I mean, in public?"

"Yeah, that's so immature." The other girl flipped back her blonde hair, but her long nails got caught in the strands; the tallest girl raised her eyes in exasperation as her friend struggled to get her fingers unstuck.

"Oh my god Heather."

"Sorry Heather." The girl was already pretty short, but she seemed to shrink under the withering stare. The Heather with the red scrunchie holding up her own silkier blonde hair sighed.

"Anyway, Heather, move your ass. And buy some mints, your bulimia breath will scare off all the guys at the party."

"Sorry Heather…" Brown haired Heather snapped to attention and quickly moved to the candy aisle; Mel stared and found herself trailing after her.

"Hey kid, um, Heather was it?"

"What do you want?"

Mel inwardly rolled her eyes. "Kid, I wouldn't sound so high and mighty, not after sounding like you just puked up a day's worth of meals and then some."

Heather's cheek flushed an angry red. "I really don't see how that's your business stock girl!"

"Right. Well, as an official employee of the 7-Eleven chain, allow me to make a suggestion." Mel scanned the aisle and picked up a box of Junior Mints; she held them up to the wary Heather with her fingers. "These will make your breath smell like chocolate and mint."

"I...well, that's more like it." Heather took the box. "Much better customer service."

"Yeah, sure thing kid. I have to say, they're small, but filling." Mel offered a lopsided grin. "And hey, after eating these, whatever guy you're kissing won't be able to stop if you get my drift."

Mel nearly jumped at the titter that came out of the girl's mouth; apparently she was just as shocked as she slapped a perfectly manicured hand over her lips with wide eyes. Her eyes looked almost fearful as they traveled to whom Mel assumed was the leader of the pack.

Tallest Heather pushed her ponytail off her shoulder. "Heather, hurry it up."

"Sorry, coming!" Heather walked past Mel with barely a glance before rushing to the counter to have Gary ring her up.

"Heather is so slow." the smaller Heather said, looking up at her friend with expectant eyes, searching for a shred of approval. Mel felt her eyebrows raise.

"Slower than the short bus." Heather picked her long, cherry red nails. "You know Heather, I have half a mind to make her walk. Maybe she'll appreciate the time it takes to haul her ass around if she has blisters on her big feet."

"Damn." Mel put a hand on her hip and just stared at the lead Heather.

"Um, was I talking to you?"

"Trust me sweetie, hearing that was not intentional." Mel gazed down at her like she was a specimen from Mars. "God, is that scrunchie dyed with the blood of your victims?"

Heather deemed it necessary to shoot Mel a snotty frown. "Hey, here's an idea. Shut up and go mind your own business. Go on," she smiled thinly and waved her hand like she was shooing away a child. "Be a good stock girl and maybe I won't tie this scrunchie around your mouth to shut those cheaply glossed up lips." her tone was icy but her eyes flashed like fire. "Keep pulling my dick and see what happens."

Mel was silent as a mouse; Heather smirked and turned to sheep Heather. "Now, as I was saying-"

Heather began but her sentence was cut off by wheezing; she grit her teeth and looked at Mel, who was currently doubled over at the waist and braying like a donkey without shame.

"Oh my god!" Mel cackled and glanced at the Heather still buying her candy, who looked shell shocked. Gary just looked up at the ceiling as he printed out a receipt slowly but surely. Heather with the less smooth blonde locks looked scandalized.

"I mean, 'pulling on your 'dick'?! W-what the hell does that _mean_?" Mel slapped her knee and ducked down again, gasping as she tried to breath.

Heather kept a chilly look on her face. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, hold on-no, wait!"

They all seemed to do just that as Mel continued to bust a gut, her booming cackling turning to soft giggles as she breathed in and out to calm down.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry sweetie, but-oh wow, I have never heard that!" Mel wiped her eyes, her face was bright pink from her laughing fit and her smile spread cheek to cheek. "Damn, that was great. I mean, who says pretty girls aren't funny?!"

JD had kept to his corner of the store, watching the scene without drawing any attention to himself as he sucked on his straw, swallowing gulp after gulp of sweet cherry slush.

His ears didn't miss Mel's tone; he knew she was a bit dense, but the exchange had gone completely over her head. She truly thought Heather was a riot.

His eyes didn't miss Heather Duke and Heather McNamara, staring unabashedly in a mix of fear and shock and awe at what they had witnessed and they certainly didn't see the way Heather Chandler seemed at a loss for words, her glare faded and more confused than anything else. Had anyone ever laughed at her before? He stood back and waited for the explosion, confident Mel could handle her own in this instance; she wouldn't pussyfoot around with someone like Heather if she actually did manage to sense the intimidation the younger girl had tried to convey.

"Oh boy, I thought I was going to stop breathing." Mel smothered another giggle. "Gary, you hear that?"

"Yeah, and I heard you laughing like a loon. Christ, you'll scare off my customers at this rate." Gary handed Heather Duke her bag. "Sorry you had to witness that ladies."

"Oh don't be such a stiff." Mel shook her head and shot him a shamelessly toothy smile. "Come on, you gotta admit that was pretty cute."

Gary gave her a look. "Are you drunk?"

"Oh yeah, jump to that." Mel faced Heather Duke and made her tone gentler. The girl looked on edge for some reason. "Hey, be careful with those okay hun? Eat slow or you'll upset your stomach."

"I...right, fine…" Heather's brown eyes flitted over to Heather Chandler questioningly, as if waiting for her command. Heather McNamara seemed even more anxious, like she was going to jump for cover any second.

Heather adjusted her scrunchie. "Heather, Heather, we'll be late. Move it or lose it, unless you want me to leave you both here."

As soon as she turned to go, the girls scurried after her, skirts swishing and heels clacking as they formed a pack once more.

"Thanks, come again." Mel waved with a half smile; she shrugged as Heather Chandler just sent her a haughty look and flipped her long hair once more as she sashayed out the door.

"Boy, that one's a piece of work." Gary let out a low whistle before going back to scraping gum; he would never call a woman anything like 'bitch' or 'cunt', but Mel was a bit surprised all the same. Gary saying 'piece of work' was his personal equivalent.

"Aw, they're young. With any luck, they might grow out of it." Mel shrugged at Gary as the trio pulled out of the parking lot and sped away; she chuckled and shook her head as she walked back to JD, who hadn't moved an inch. "You hear that Jason? 'Pulling on my dick'? I gotta remember that one."

"Genius." JD checked his watch. "Hey Mel, I better motor, it's getting late."

"Oh sure, and that slushie is on the house."

"Don't give shit away for free when I'm right here!"

"Take it from my check!" Mel called back and sighed heavily. "Dear lord that man….anyhow, are you going to be okay? You remember, if there's anything you can't handle, you come over, I don't care what time it is, if I'm at work, whatever."

"Hey, a deal is a deal."

Mel lowered her voice and took JD's arm in her grip. "I mean it Jason. You swear to me if things look bad-"

"Mel, take it easy." JD pulled his arm from her hand gently. "I'm a big boy, I can tie my own shoes, pour my own milk in the cereal."

Mel smiled apologetically. "I know. Just...humor me? And be safe."

JD raised his hand as if taking an oath, thanked her, left Gary with a respectful and understanding nod as he issued another warning/threat, and walked out the door into the somewhat cooler night air. He waited as he started his bike, peering through the large glass window to be sure Mel was busy searching for the right tune on her radio while he downed the rest of his Slurpee in one swallow. As the doors slid slowly closed, JD heard the music drift out to his ears.

 _"When I get home from work, I wanna wrap my arms around you. I wanna take you and squeeze you, 'til the passion starts to rise...~"_

"See, and you said Alice Cooper is the devil." Mel was gesturing triumphantly to the radio as the voice crooned to a soft melody of a love song. It wasn't one to jam to in a fast and wild sense, but Mel seemed to enjoy it all the same.

"No, I said he's ugly as sin. But yeah, I don't like his music either."

"Sheila likes this song." Came the sly response.

 _"If I could take you to heaven, that would make my day complete.~"_

JD could hear Alice Cooper's ballad over the sound of Gary's adamant denials before the door shut tight and the voices were all muffled noise. It might have been funny if he was in a better mood. JD cast them one last glance before tossing his cup in the trash and driving off.

As the wind picked up and pushed back his hair and stung his eyes, JD could feel the throb pulse and wrap around his brain. He embraced it. He wished it made him blind.

He would give anything to destroy the image now imprinted in his brain, the burning, stomach churning image of Heather Chandler hiding a blush as she made her escape from the store and Mel's bright smile.

JD wanted to burn the image to the ground with a few tons of TNT.

Or just skip the pleasant imagery to shoot for the stars and make the fantasy a reality.


	6. Cover Up Love's Alibi

**Author's Note: Anyone seeing the pattern yet? I'm a big fan of 80's rock, so if you get all the references and jokes, kudos! Hope you all enjoy!**

Heather Chandler was majorly miffed.

"I said, I'm not feeling good, you ass." she muttered at the boy beside her; she didn't know his name, or really any of the names of the men sitting around her. "You probably gave me some bad shit."

The metaphorical pig sitting next to her, one arm draped lazily half on her shoulder and half on the booth seat as he shoveled fries into his mouth. Heather wanted to gag; they were covered in chili and cheese and if he thought he was putting that tongue in her mouth later, he had another thing coming. Even now she was getting closer and closer to storming out of the bar.

 _"These guys probably wouldn't make the cut for community college."_ Heather thought bitterly as she drummed her red nails on the table, the plate of salad barely touched in front of her. _"God, when he said we were going out, I thought he meant going someplace where they can make a dish with real frickin' food."_

He had the money, and heather Duke said she had heard that he had the class. Heather sneered to herself. _"Stupid bitch. Her and Heather are going to gets their's tomorrow. Christ, I'm fucking starving here you fucking idiots..."_

She willed them to choke on their food. Her lettuce was limp and the tomatoes were hard; the croutons were stale. Heather frowned at her plate as the others dug in on their cheeseburgers and patty melts. Even if she wasn't watching her, already perfect thank you very much, figure, there was no way she could stomach the heavy, greasy dishes on the menu. The little white pills her 'date' had told her would make the sex later that much more 'tubular', were just making her feel light headed, queasy, and shaky. Heather tried to keep her hands busy to stop them from shaking.

"Yeah, my dad's pushing me for Princeton, but you know, I just want to do my own thing." her companion accidentally let a half chewed up fry fall from his mouth; he turned to her. "Huh? Were you saying something?"

"I said: I'm. Not. Feeling. Well." Heather told him, holding her stomach with both hands. "Can you just take me home now?"

"What? Come on Holly, we just got here-"

"Heather." Heather reminded him, her teeth bared slightly as she refrained from tearing off his head. How dare he?! Didn't he know who he was talking to?

"Oh yeah. We can go back to my place after this."

"No." Heather sent him a tight lipped smile. "I don't feel good, because the shit you gave me. You're responsible if I keel over and fucking die on this table. Take. Me. Home."

The boy put down his fries and leaned over close. "Not. Now."

"Excuse me?!"

"If you want to, walk. Actually, just go ahead now if you're not up to party anymore." he turned back to his oblivious buddies. Heather stared at him in furious shock before jumping from the table, grabbing her hand bag, stomping on his foot, nearly knocking over a waitress balancing her trays, and marching off to the bathroom, angry tears streaming and hair flying in her face as she slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Fucking, stupid pieces of shit!" Heather cursed through gritted teeth as she ran cold water at full blast; she pressed her trembling hands on the sides of the sink and held in a scream. No point in getting upset, not over this. He'd get his later. But right now she was more concerned over whether her hands were shaking because she was fighting the impulse to punch her smudged reflection or from the pill.

After a moment of silence Heather calmed down and checked herself in the mirror and her fury rose to new heights; her hair was tangled, her make up faded, the angry tears and the sweat gathering at her forehead was making her neat mascara and eyeliner run underneath her eyelids. Heather clenched her fists and bit her tongue so hard she was sure it might bleed.

 _"I can't believe I sucked off that loser."_ she glared and yearned for some toothpaste, a toothbrush, and two gallons of bleach. _"At least wash up you pig."_

"Stupid, stupid, jackass losers." she mumbled, her voice growing in tone as she struggled to get a grip back on the roll of paper towels. They slipped right out of her hands and fell to the dirty tile floor; she only managed to tear off an almost miniscule corner of a sheet, not nearly enough to wipe her eyes and face clean.

Heather tossed it with a childish huff into the garbage bin overflowing with used towels.

"Stupid."

She decided to say fuck it and turn off the towel; who cares if a bunch of drunk bumpkins saw her walk out of there with runny makeup and messy hair? Heather bit her lips harder and gasped a second later. Now her top two teeth were stained red from her lipstick.

"Stupid!" she grabbed at the handles, her hands were practically vibrating and she couldn't seem to curl her fingers tight enough over the cold metal to shut off the blasting water. With a muffled screech of frustration, Heather swung at one of them to push it to the right; it budged maybe half a centimeter and managed to now make her hand throb with dull pain.

Heather sucked in a deep breath as if preparing to scream. She screwed up her eyes and fought against it; she was in control. So what if she wasn't feeling so great? The effects would probably just wear off, she could wait it out a few more minutes. The night was shitty, that was for sure, but what did one lousy halfassed date compare to her life every single day?

So what if she sucked off a guy she had just met to bolster her reputation, to prove that she could and would and escape unscathed and still come out on top? She was hot, gorgeous, rich, confident, and worshipped like a goddess come to life to the moment she she woke up to the minutes before she fell asleep in her bed that cost more than most people's cars? What was one night of temporary discomfort? Some pathetic bitch was walking around with nothing, because she had it all!

Heather watched, eyes unblinking as the water flowed out the sink and splashed against the basin, flowing into the pipes, rushing, spiraling, going down, down, down, down.

 _"Stupid."_

She hung her head when she caught sight of her own gaze and let her hair fall over her shoulders in a heap to block out any other sights. She breathed harshly.

"Fucking stupid….."

 _"Well damn."_ Mel closed the bathroom door and sighed quietly; she straightened her uniform and strode over to where Sheila was behind the bar.

"Sheila, let me pick up your section? Those guys are getting antsy waiting for beer."

Sheila looked tiredly at the entrance where another group of men were coming in, probably straight from a late shift by the look of their uniforms. "Wednesday and the place is packed...okay Mel, carry that." she nodded to the tray of bottles; Mel smiled and dutifully went to deliver it to the rowdy bunch near the back of the dining floor.

"Hey guys, sorry for the wait." Mel carefully placed one bottle to each of them; the one at the end gave her a roguish grin and was about to open his mouth, but the smile turned to a grimace as the bottle tipped in her grasp and splashed on his front.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry sir!" Mel fumbled with the bottle and snatched a napkin from her apron. "Let me, I'm so sorry, I'm such a klutz!"

The boy seemed at a loss for words as she leaned over and patted his shirt to semi dryness.

"So, sorry-oh look, it got on the seat!" Mel leaned over even further and dabbed at the spot next to him; the other boys were looking around her, eyes fixated on her backside raised in the air. "There we go, all clean! Here, let me get you an unopened one, on the house." she gave them all a sheepish grin. "Be right back!"

"Oh, sure!" the boy gave his friends a cocky grin as Mel walked away, hips swaying to the music blaring over the radio speakers.

"Dude, you going to get her digits when she comes back?"

"Boys, boys, patience." he told his friend and straightened up his shirt. "You can't rush these things, no matter how easy they look."

Sheila looked at Mel warily as she sauntered over with a thumbs up. "I'm expecting you to pay me back for that."

"Take it out of my paycheck." Mel said with a grin as she picked up the phone, went around the bar and made a call. Maybe ten minutes later two cops entered the bar about the same time as Heather came out of the bathroom. Mel saw her and went to her side to pull her back to the side.

"Hey, hands off waitress!"

Mel sighed. "Heather was it? You might not want to go over there."

Before she could retort, Heather's sharp eyes landed on the table; a cop was already pushing her date against the wall, cuffing him and reading his Miranda rights while the other examined a bag of weed in the dim light.

"Dude, it's not mine!"

"Son, that's what the all say." the first cop made sure the cuffs were secure. "At any rate, you resisted arrest. If you're smart, you'd cooperate."

"But-hey, Holly!" the boy spotted Heather next to Mel. "Hey, hey officer, that girl was with me all night, she'll tell you!"

"It's Heather you-!"

"Officer, this girl just ran into the bathroom crying." Mel out an arm over Heather's stiff shoulders, digging her fingers in and trying to silently tell her to shut up and let her do the talking. Luckily Heather seemed to get the message and her mouth shut like a slammed door.

The officer waited until the boys were all escorted outside. "Miss, did you make the call?"

Mel nodded and glanced at Heather. "This girl said as soon as she saw the bag in his pocket she got scared. She's a minor you know, thought that burnout was some nice boy." Mel shook her head sadly. "Please sir, she's been through a lot tonight."

"I think we've got what we need. Thank you for doing your civic duty miss, most people wouldn't take possession of marijuana so seriously; ignorant of the dangers you see."

Mel smiled shyly. "Oh of course sir. I'm just going to take this poor girl to the bathroom and get her cleaned up. Come on Heather sweetie, we'll just get you right fixed up, don't you give those druggies a second thought."

She tried not to run off too fast as the cop began to talk with Sheila; she smirked a little as soon as the bathroom door was closed. Sheila wasn't too keen to give up her boon, but it was for a good cause.

"Heather, sorry to drag you, but if you said the wrong thing, those cops would've found me out." Mel pressed her ear against the door and locked it, satisfied no one was listening in. "God, what pricks. How'd you end up with those bums?"

Heather was standing stock still in the middle of the bathroom. "What-what the hell? What did you-?"

"Sh." Mel put a finger to her lips and drew closer. "Not so loud, someone might hear. Look, don't worry, the cops totally bought it. I mean, those guys probably do carry shit on them anyway, I probably didn't even need to plant anything." she snickered and leaned back on the sink. "Just hang in here for a few more minutes until they leave...hey, are you okay?"

Heather shoved her hands under her arms. "I'm fine. Just get to the point."

"Huh?"

"What do you want? Money? Well forget it, I don't owe you a damn thing-"

"Whoa, hold on buddy." Mel put up a hand. "Christ, I'm not some blackmailer."

"Oh, so you usually plant bags of pot in a stranger's pocket for free? Is that a fun night for you?"

"No! Well...they were assholes, so it was kinda fun." Mel admitted. "Don't tell me you're mad at me for pranking your man?"

"He is not my anything. He's just some loser I thought was worth a fuck, but he's a low class idiot who gave me some bad shit. Can't even get a girl high." Heather glared coldly, as if daring Mel to judge her. "I would have done way worse and I will once he's out of jail."

"Okay, okay. Add another spot of blood to that scrunchie." Mel patted down her uniform skirt. "So, I'm going to take a wild guess and say your hands shaking like an addict is a side effect of the bad shit?"

"It'll wear off."

Mel glanced at the sink, still halfway on. "Can you grip anything?"

"No. I don't care, I don't need to clean up right now."

Mel scratched her cheek. "Hey, I bet you usually go to places with those bathroom attendants."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Sorry to disappoint. Did you think he was taking you to one of those places?"

Heather slumped down the wall until she was sitting; she didn't even care if it was dirty, she was so tired and sick. Her whole night was a bust; besides, the dress was a week old. She narrowed her blurry eyes as Mel took the roll of paper towels, ripped a handful out, and dampened it in water before turning off the sink. Heather nearly jumped when Mel crouched down in front of her.

"What are you doing?!"

Mel looked at her strangely. "Can you wipe your own face? I mean, I'm no official bathroom attendant, but I can adapt. Call it an apology for letting riff-raff into our humble establishment." she joked wryly and held up the wet towels.

"You should be. This place is filthy, the lights are dim as shit, and the food is processed shit."

"Wow, you curse a lot for someone so classy. Sorry, tell me if I'm too rough." Mel said absently as she took the towel to Heather's forehead, pushing her hair off her skin.

"And Budweiser? Who drinks that swill?" Heather muttered ruefully, leaning her head back to let Mel get under her chin. "And don't poke my eyes."

"So, what do you drink?"

"Rum and coke."

"I can make you one when you're of age to drink." Mel said cheerfully. "Sorry, I have to steady you" she gently took Heather's sharp chin in her other hand. "Boy, that stuff must be bad, your whole face is red as a your dress. At least it matches, right?"

"Fuck off. At least I have a sense of fashion. What are you even wearing? And pink? What are you five?"

Mel shrugged and dabbed at her red eyes. "Well, it is the uniform. What's wrong with pink? It's basically red, just lighter."

"There is a world of difference."

"Okay." Mel shrugged. "You know, Sheila told me the color red is supposed to mean passionate love and pink is supposed to be romantic love. I don't know where people get time to come up with that crap, but there you have it. How's your hands?"

"Super."

"Still shaking then? How's your stomach? You look peaky." Mel glanced around. "Do you have a brush?"

"I never met a bathroom attendant who asked so many stupid questions."

"Asking if you're well is stupid? Geez, if this is how you react to a stranger being concerned, I can only imagine the ribbing your friends get."

"They'll get my heel up their fat asses. They ditched me when they realized their dates were duds." Heather seethed but managed to gesture to her hand bag. "My brush is in the biggest pocket and don't you dare yank my hair or I'll rip out yours."

Mel smiled wanly. "It's funny, I can't seem to understand why they left you on your own."

"Blow it up your asshole."

Mel sighed and sat behind Heather; she began brushing out the very tips of her hair. _"Geez, what am I doing? Well, she's just a kid still….I mean, even if she's a grade A bitch, that was still pretty rank of her friends to leave her with those creeps."_

"Those traitors. They'll get their's tomorrow."

"Heather, did it occur to you that maybe they left because they think you'd do the same to them?"

"I would."

"Oh." Mel didn't know what else to say so she occupied herself with running the brush down in slow, cautious strokes. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Not half as much as shit." Heather stared straight ahead, willing herself to relax and not relax at the same time. "So what, you're a waitress by night and a clerk by day or something?"

"Something like that." Mel told her. "My shifts switch around, but I'm usually done at 7-Eleven by the late afternoon and work here weekends and mornings. Depends on who needs me at the time."

"Wow, so glad I asked. Do you ever stop talking?"

"Sometimes. Okey dokey, the cops should be gone now." Mel could only hear the sounds of dining and the lyrics of Blondie outside the door. When she strained to listen, she could hear someone was singing along. Poorly.

Mel handed back the brush and was pleased to see her reluctant acquaintance could hold it and place it back securely in her bag. Heather stood up on shaky legs, but Mel didn't move to help her as she made for the door.

 _"You're welcome."_ Mel decided to let it go; she really hadn't gotten the impression Heather was the grateful sort. Besides, it was pretty funny.

"What do you want?"

Mel rolled her eyes. "Nothing, god, cool your jets. Look, from what I can tell, you're about as nice as a rabid dog, but that was still messed up what that guy did or how his shitty buddies just kept quiet. You didn't deserve that. No one does. It has nothing to do with how you feel; I did what I wanted because I saw some jerk off treat a person like shit and it didn't sit well with me."

Heather frowned, still looking suspicious and more like the girl Mel had first seen at 7-Eleven; she supposed this meant she was feeling more like herself.

"And you have to admit, it was pretty sweet." Mel grinned. "Like, the cops here are kinda suckers."

Heather opened her mouth but snapped it back closed before turning away. "I'd say not to tell anyone about this, but I doubt you know anyone who matters."

"Only to me." Mel called out to her. Sheila came out from behind the bar as soon as she saw Heather come out from the bathroom.

"Hey sweetie, do you need a ride home? Or you can use our phone."

"I'm going to call my driver."

"Alrighty, phone's right there."

Heather dialed and tapped her foot impatiently; Mel sidled behind the bar and took out a bottle of Budweiser and cracked it open on the counter top. Heather looked at it in distaste before listening closely to the dial tone. Mel was moving her hips to the music and singing the words in a way that almost sounded like a soft hum.

"Ooooooh, amore, chiamami, chiamami~" Mel sang softly as she began cutting up lemons and limes. "Ooooooh, appelle moi mon cherie, appelle moi."

"Do you even know what you're squawking?" Heather asked nastily over the dial tone.

"Nope. Sounds nice though." Mel said carelessly while she discarded the little ends of each fruit; Heather rolled her eyes in thinly veiled irritation. "What, and you do?"

"She's speaking French and Italian . She's saying for them to call her."

"Duh. I could figure that out."

Heather flipped her off as she talked to her chauffeur; not five minutes later she was out the door, in the car, and driving to her luxurious home to sleep off her hangover and the bad effects of the pills without so much as a thank you.

"What a bitch." Sheila commented lightly; she gave Mel a slap on the back. "I mean, wow, I almost see why that guy was willing to make her walk home."

"Yeah, but he was the one who made her sick in the first place." Mel said as she cut slits into the lemon and limes slices. "I heard her crying in the bathroom."

Sheila's face fell. "Oh...oh sweetie. I'm sorry."

"Oh no, I'm fine. I just felt bad. She sounded so upset. I don't know, maybe Gary's rubbing off on me; if he were here, he'd have just tossed them out on their asses himself." Mel chuckled and began looking for the tequila.

"Tell you what, you only have to pay back half of that bag." Sheila said as she gave her a one armed hug. "Looking out for that poor kid was nice to do. God, you think her parent would be wondering what she's doing out so late with a bunch of college aged guys."

"She comes from money; you know those types, they always seem off on some fancy vacation thing." Mel replied.

"I guess I can see how a girl could end up how she is, but still, she could have at least said thank you." Sheila said; slower to anger and generally more easy going than her husband, it took a bit more to ruffle her feathers.

"Yeah, but them's the breaks." Mel laughed and took a swig from her bottle. "I'm surprised she didn't bite me in the bathroom; you know what they say about putting sick or wild animals in enclosed spaces…."

"Oh god, that's terrible."

"It's honest." Mel remarked. "Seriously, I don't know what's up that girl's ass. She talks funny, like, I kept trying not to laugh. You don't expect a kid looking proper like her to have a foul mouth."

"Maybe no one's washed it out with soap, if you get my drift."

Mel nodded in understanding. "You know, Jason talks like he's twice his age. Kids seem to...I mean, it's like they're growing up faster than ever...but...they're not? I don't know, maybe I'm just overthinking things."

"One thing's sure, it's difficult to be that age." Sheila said as she moved past Mel to fill a man's glass. "They're not really kids anymore, but they're not adults either. They can go to war and have sex and get up to all sorts of things we do, but a lot of them go into it without knowing how or why or what they should do when things get too confusing and tangled up. Sounds like those two kids you're looking after don't have the best examples to look to for guidance; you might be the first adult to treat them like they need to be treated."

"Aw geez Sheila, you make it sound like I'm taking in foster kids or saving the whales or something." Mel felt her face grow hot as she took the finished margaritas and lemon drops over to the group of women most likely getting a break from the kids; praise from Gary and Sheila never ceased to make her feel embarrassingly giddy.

"No, but you sure are going out of your way for people you just met."

"It's not a big deal. Jason needs a place to crash now and then and that Heather chick needed to get away from that guy; I swear, taking advantage of a mixed up kid, that's just sick, I don't care how much of a cunt she is. Maybe a little time in the pen will set his ass straight."

Sheila looked at Mel for a moment. "You have a dark streak."

"What?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, you're sweet as a peach, but when you're mad, you get vindictive."

"I'm not vindictive!" Mel said in genuine shock. "Sheila, how can you say that?"

"You do realize that boy might go to prison?"

Mel thought for a moment. "Oh come on, it's a year in jail tops. Sounds like his daddy has money anyway, so it'll probably be way less severe for someone like him."

"True." Sheila conceded. "That boy will never learn anything if his parents always bail him out."

"Literally." Mel commented and downed the rest of her beer with a short belch.

"But the way you talk about that runaway's daddy is scary."

"So?"

"You said, and I quote, 'That rat bastard, I hope he gets alcohol poisoning and drops dead by the time the kid is eighteen and on his own so he makes a clean escape.' And then you mentioned you hoped he would get eaten by actual rats as he lay rotting in his own shit."

"...So?"

Sheila blinked slowly. "Nothing sweetie." she took a few tangerines and began slicing away with a nimble hands. "You're fine to walk home?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Mel said with some exasperation as she walked away to punch out for the night; one beer was barely enough to make a buzz, but that was Sheila.

The crowd was thinning and she was hardly needed for backup. Mel was actually feeling pretty exhausted; the events of that night sort of caused an adrenaline rush.

Her whole plan had been a spur of the moment decision, one that she realized she should have put more thought into, but hearing someone hold back sobs in the bathroom and being calm was easier said than done. Mel was lucky the cops were so negligent, in addition to being gullible when it came to two young women; it never seemed to even cross their minds that Heather might have taken something, or they summed up her state truly was from fear and exhaustion.

 _"I really need to start thinking beforehand."_ Mel felt shame creep up on her. What if she had been caught? Sheila would most likely speak up and say who the pot really belonged to, and then what would have happened? _"Calm down girl, everything's cool for now. Just move on and don't forget next time you act that you need to listen to that little voice telling you to not be retarded."_

Mel let down her ponytail and shook out her hair to get rid of the slight ache that came from keeping it bound tight at the back of her head. She sighed happily and made her way through the parking lot to get to the sidewalk that led to home; she was so eager to get moving, she almost didn't hear the engine purring so close to her right.

"She walks in beauty like the night."

Mel jumped slightly and turned her head while clutching the knife in her purse.

"Whoa, easy there. Not a Byron fan I take it? Maybe you'd prefer I quote Axl Rose?" JD put one foot on the ground and put on the brakes; his clothes were so dark, she hadn't been able to make his profile out for a second. "You can hurt someone with that you know."

"Oh my god, you scared me!" Mel let out a great relieved breath and dropped her knife back into her pocket. "How long were you riding with your lights off? That's dangerous!"

"Just until you came out."

Mel glared at him but couldn't hold back an amused smile. "I'd like to think you're yanking my chain, but I'm half convinced that's the only reason you came to meet me."

"Well, that was the primary reason." JD gave her what might have looked like a disarmingly bashful smile if not for the brief snicker. "The other was to ask if you wouldn't mind letting me stay the night?"

Mel's smile was gone instantly. "Jason, did something happen? Is everything okay?"

"Ah, you know, this and that." JD sat there with a cocked smirk and patted the back of his bike. "Unless, my request has come at a bad time?"

"Oh, it's just-" Mel paused. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound so panicky."

"Hey, it's cool. You look pretty tired." JD leaned on the handlebars to peer down at her with a teasing glint to his eyes. "If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear."


	7. Took a Wrong Turn and I Just Kept Going

Mel gasped. "Patience!"

JD grinned. "You really are a connoisseur."

"Well, the album only came out in April, so it's not like it's hard to forget." Mel told him. "I was skeptical at first. I'm not as big a fan of their slower songs, but that one is just so mellow, you know? Tugs at the heartstrings too much, even Gary liked it."

Now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark, Mel could see JD had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. "Did you bring homework?"

"Yeah. Can't get much done with pop causing a ruckus." JD wagged his finger like an old man. "I got you a surprise too."

"Sweet! Let's get to my place first; I need a shower. I smell like grease, cooking oil, and bad whiskey."

Mel still wasn't quite used to the motorbike; even with the helmet and JD' s decent driving skills, she found herself clinging to him like white on rice. It was only when her feet touched the ground of her driveway that she felt she could properly breathe again; JD of course thought this was hilarious, but she appreciated he refrained from smirking too much at her frazzled state.

"You're going to have a heart attack if you can't calm down on this." JD patted the bike affectionately and swaggered up to the porch to unlock the door in her stead. Mel followed in after him, dumping her purse on the couch and going to the kitchen.

"Did you have dinner? It's late, but I can find something…"

"I'm good." JD waved off her concern; he was more preoccupied with searching through his messenger bag. Once he found what he wanted, his face lit up; in his hand was a somewhat small, flat box. "Bingo."

Mel gulped down a glass of water. "What's that?"

"Open it." JD strolled over to her and held out the box. "I picked it out special."

Mel blinked and looked down at the box; it looked like the kind you'd keep a necklace in, but the weight was far too heavy.

"Uh, and I wouldn't shake it if I was you."

Mel gave JD a questioning look, but he just waited for her move; she smiled slightly and took off the lid. Inside was a small pistol, not that much bigger than a hand.

"Jason?"

"It's a Ruger GP100 revolver! Double action six shots, easy to conceal, .357 magnum bullets, and does it pack a decent punch." JD was smiling like a little kid; he looked downright giddy. "I was thinking a glock, but this just seemed more your style."

"Jason it sounds like you put a lot of thought in this, and that I can appreciate, but...why the fuck did you buy me a gun?"

JD laughed as if the answer was child's play to know. "Protection! Come on, gas stations get broken into all the time, held up, and some of the worst scum gravitate to bars. No offense, but that knife won't do you much good in certain circumstances; this levels the playing field."

"Jason, these are dangerous! I can't just, just carry it around everywhere! It seems pretty extreme-"

"Don't freak on me Mel. Look here," JD gently took the pistol from her hand. "For one, you probably won't even need to use it, most people see a gun and that's enough. The extreme leaves an impression; it's not like you're going to go shooting down folks left and right, right?"

"Well no." Mel still looked decidedly concerned. "But I don't even know how to shoot. I've never held a gun in my life."

"What's the big deal? You fill out the paperwork, take a test, learn a few rules, and you're all set. I'll take you to the gun range sometime."

JD made it sound like there was no funner activity; Mel tried to think rationally. She never had anything against guns, but she had never sought to own one or make use of Ohio's open carry laws.

But then, JD had made a good point; she did feel anxious and on edge walking to and from work at nights. It would make her feel more secure knowing she had more than a somewhat flimsy knife if something really bad were to happen.

"Jason, where'd you even get this from?"

"This guy from one of my dad's work sites. He gave me a good deal, even threw in the bullets free." JD put the gun back inside the box and closed the lid. "Mel, it's okay." his voice was comparatively gentler. "You act like I'm planting drugs in your-"

"What?" Mel asked in a hushed whisper.

"What?" JD frowned. "Look, in the right hands, a gun is just a gun. I wanted to find a way to thank you Mel...you're fighting for me. I wanted to do something to repay you, something to give you the peace of mind you're giving me."

"Oh. Jason, don't feel like you have to pay me back. It's not a big deal, really."

"You're giving me a place to go when shit goes down at home." JD's chuckle was bitter. "This place feels more like home in the past week than anywhere else I've ever been."

Mel frowned sadly. "I'm...god Jason, I don't mean to bum you out, but I'm kind of sorry to hear that."

"Hey, shit happens, right? But it's true." JD held out the box. "Take it Mel, for me? If something happens to you…"

"I understand." Mel smiled sympathetically. "It is kinda cool looking. Easy to store...I, uh, like the wooden handle."

"Thought it was your style." JD clapped his hands together. "If it makes you feel better, leave it unloaded and in a hiding spot until we can get you those papers."

Mel nodded and went to her room to find a good spot; in a way, she realized the present seemed to be for both her and JD's benefit. After all, if something did happen to her, where would that leave him? He didn't seem comfortable enough to go to Gary or Sheila for any help and god knows he couldn't rely on his dad or anyone else. From the few times he had told her about school, aside from a few classmates he could admit he didn't dislike, it seemed like JD still had yet to make a single friend.

 _"It does still feel a bit much, but then, if I was in his place, I'd be terrified of anything happening to_ _Sheila or Gary."_ Mel stowed away the box and cringed as the bullets rattled around the bottom. _"If anything happened to them now, I'd be able to survive on my own, but they're the only people who ever cared about me...I don't know what I'd do if I lost them."_

Besides, it wasn't like she was some trigger happy nut job; Mel was more than eager to know the regulations and safety guidelines in case of an emergency. And it wasn't like Gary hadn't suggested a single woman living alone like her wouldn't benefit from having a gun of some sort in the house; the conversation had just never gone far enough to materialize results.

It really wasn't even the gun that made her concerned. It was JD.

 _"Oh stop that crap."_ Mel told herself as she fixed up the bed for him to sleep in. _"It's not so strange. Most men are into guns and have them. Gary has a shot gun in his basement. My old man had one in the den. It's a practical gift too and it's something he seems to know a lot about."_

Mel couldn't help feel touched; it was incredibly sweet in a way, to know JD was concerned for her safety enough to take initiative himself. To want her to feel more secure showed he had really come to rely on her and he obviously must have trusted her if he thought she was capable of handling a firearm.

 _"And what he was saying, it was just an expression."_ Mel wanted to laugh at herself; JD would have no way of knowing what had happened earlier. She kicked her pile of dirty clothes to the corner of her closet to make things look a bit less cluttered when her toe hit something heavier than clothes, but lighter than a shoe. Mel knelt down to dig through the clothes pile; between her jobs and going out, she really didn't have too much time to organize, but she basically knew where everything was.

"What the...? Oh."

"Everything okay?" JD had come to stand by the door frame. "Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch?"

"Oh no, you're my guest! I'm fine, just...just clearing things up."

JD came closer and looked down at her; Mel was holding a pair of headphones in her hands, thin and black colored plastic. One of the ear speakers was gone and the headband part to hold it over the user's scalp was wrapped in duct tape.

"Those yours?"

"No." Mel shook her head. "Well, they were."

JD couldn't see her expression; her hair was down and veiling her profile.

"Do they work?"

"Oh no. They've been broken for years now." Mel told him; she stood up, headphones still in hand. She paused and looked into the closet before placing them on the top shelf close to the light drawstring. "Jason, is everything okay at home? I figure if you wanted to just give me that present you'd have done it some other time."

"Well, my pop was giving me some grief. It's all good though, I fed him a story about a friend letting me stay the night."

"And I'm guessing he didn't ask for a number to reach you or anything."

"Nope. Works for me though." JD smiled thinly; he waited for her response, but all she did was nod shortly. "Mel?"

"Sorry Jason. I know maybe you're not phased, but...it just seems so wrong to me. I know I don't know that much about you...but no kid deserves to be treated like that, not by family."

JD came just a bit closer; he reached down to push her hair back like a curtain. Her eyes were vacant and glistening; with a weak smile, she glanced at him from the corner of her vision. "Sorry Jason. The last thing you need is another adult falling apart on you."

"Mel-"

"Don't worry about me. And thank you, for the gift. I can't wait to try it out at the range." Mel kept her eyes not quite on his face. "You should go to bed, it's a school night-"

"I'm not a kid."

Mel stopped. "Oh Jason, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you mean." JD had pulled his hand away with an almost mockingly serious face and she couldn't decide if he was actually offended or not; she really couldn't tell what he was thinking herself. "I mean, yeah, I guess to you I am still a kid. But I'm not a child. You get it Mel? You can be sad. I think I can handle it." he smiled wryly. "This is your place, last time I checked."

Mel tried to smile. "I hope I didn't patronize you."

"Hey, no harm done. And don't put on a happy face on my account." JD moved back a step. "After everything you've done for me-if you're sad, just go on and cry if you need to."

"Deal."

Mel nodded. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed before walking out of the room. In the brief moment their eyes met, she let herself smile. In the dim room JD had only been in once before, Mel smiled with genuine affection this time. The smile looked unburdened, unguarded, yet troubled all the same as the corners of her faintly glossy lips came to meet with the restrained sadness in her eyes as they mixed with the warmth.

It was almost painful to look at.

"Goodnight Jason. Get some sleep, okay?"

A playful salute. "Yes ma'am."

It was painful to look away.

JD wondered just how much of a kid she'd still think he was if she were to come back in the room not twenty minutes after all the lights were off, to walk in on him under the covers, nose buried in her pillow, and hand down his pants.

But as it were, the only signs she was still up came from the sound of the shower running in the bathroom; there was no chance of Mel needing to come back to the room, having already taken a fresh pair of clothes from the drawers to take with her. After that, all JD could hear was the soft sounds of Mel's radio coming down the hall from the living room.

 _"I met her in a Kingstown bar, we fell in love I knew it had to end….~"_

JD was glad Mel liked to listen to music without headphones most of the time. As far as he could see, Mel didn't have a Walkman. Maybe it wasn't necessary or maybe it was just because she hadn't thought to buy one. It sounded like something that might not occur to her.

JD could picture her in the living room, sitting up, head leaning back to stare at the ceiling as she closed her eyes and took in the beat and the singing and tried to pick out every instrument being used. Mel would probably turn it off soon, or just turn it down, thinking he'd be asleep by then or it was disturbing him. But it couldn't be farther from the truth.

 _"Everybody needs a place to rest, everybody wants to have a home. Don't make no difference what nobody says...ain't nobody like to be alone~"_

JD wished Mel made mix tapes or burned CDs with all her favorite songs; he could listen to them and understand her better than anyone else ever might. He was glad she played her beloved tunes for all to hear, to memorize the lyrics and the way she swung her hips and bobbed her head and smiled when the song was particularly good. JD wanted to hear for himself the thoughts and feelings and words she might not be able to say, or otherwise didn't feel necessary to tell him.

He wanted to know what her world sounded like; he was quite sure it sounded much more pleasant than anything in his own.

But he'd have to be patient; in many senses they were still strangers. With a tired sigh, JD wiped his hand on the handkerchief he used to cover his gun and heard Mel get up to turn off the radio. The floorboards were creaky and sank in some places; he could hear her every move from the bed. How long would it be until she felt comfortable sharing it with him? It was her bed and it was obvious she was trying to hold something back from him, hiding something, and keeping him in the dark for whatever purpose.

JD was planning to wait patiently; he was already a year over the age of consent, so the only reason he could think of Mel prolonging the inevitable was out of some sort of personal hangup.

 _"God, she needs to lighten up and get over it sooner or later, or how are we ever going to get this ball rolling?"_ JD frowned to himself as an ugly thought reared in his head.

He had seen Heather Chandler leave the bar and get into her nice car and drive off to her nice house just minutes before meeting Mel, tight red dress, killer heels, and a face like she had been knocked sideways into a dream. Probably from one too many drinks (she would have gotten them from men who didn't care how old she was) but that wasn't the odd thing; it was too out of place.

JD had seen mega bitches like the Heathers come and go in his high school ventures, and he was certain this one would most definitely never set foot in a place like Sheila's without a gun being held to her head. That, or some ulterior motive. The missing puzzle piece formed in the shape of Heather exiting the greasy joint alone. No friends, no date, nothing. JD assumed she wouldn't want to be caught dead in a place like that, but then, what would she even being doing there?

He wasn't delusional. JD was aware the deductions being drawn in his head were far fetched; there was no substantial evidence to back up his train of thought. JD turned on his side and hugged the pillow, nose pressed in the pillowcase as he willed himself to rest and plan for his next move before jumping to conclusions. In the morning or even later, he could talk to Mel and his suspicions would be confirmed or denied, though he was sure it was the latter. After all, Heather Chandler had no way of knowing where Mel worked; she didn't know a thing about her.

JD would make sure to keep it that way.


	8. Somebody Dear to Me

**Author's Note: This song isn't from the 80's. Guess where it's from and you get a Slurpee. ;3 Enjoy!**

The marks from Mel still stung a bit in the morning; JD had rolled over on his stomach as he slept, making them ache from the pressure put on the still healing indents, the pangs of pain shaking him from his sleep. The nails were just sharp enough to break skin, and JD was surprised none of the pink polish she wore didn't rub off on his shirt as she sunk her nails in. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't think of a time a girl had pressed up against him like that.

JD surveyed the damage properly; he had been too tired and eager to give her the present the other night to give the stinging much thought. It was a welcome sort of pain; not distracting enough to overwhelm, but enough to feel oddly comforting. It didn't dull his senses. It was like being slapped awake.

 _"Well looky here."_ JD laid back with a yawn and a lazy smile, letting his shirt slip back down. " _Kitty has claws."_

The clock said six on the dot. There was plenty of time to get ready and take his bike to school; he'd make sure to ask Mel if she wanted a ride if she was working at the 7-Eleven.

It blowed they had such different schedules. JD took the extra time to breathe his favorite scent and relax; his hand trailed down to push up the hem of his shirt, the tips of his fingers lightly trailing over the red marks. Maybe someday soon there'd be more on his back and shoulders, thin and bright red and jolting JD to consciousness; instead of waking up in solitude waiting for the time to get ready to trudge to school, he'd be lying in the same bed, scooted over to make room for one more, and nowhere else they needed to be.

Was that life after high school? No strict schedules, no strange and diluted, (yet no less hostile) teen hierarchy, no one telling him to pack up his unpacked bags and another car trip to who know's where else?

It could all be so different. Planting roots and making memories, getting familiar with names and faces without having to scratch his dulled mind to remember them.

And someone to come home to who JD saw every day and could hold an actual, relaxed conversation with. Someone who remembered him and knew him, maybe even better than he knew himself in ways he didn't think anyone could. Someone who made him feel tangible and solid.

Some days JD pondered on that. Could a person exist if no one knew of them, no one knew their name or face or that they even _were_? And what about the endless number of people who died, leaving no trace, no one, nothing at all to say they were alive? Because now they were dead and gone; they might as well have never existed.

And JD couldn't help think, what if he were to die, today or tomorrow or just whenever? Only his dad would realize when he noticed his car lacked one less suitcase on the way to the next state over.

JD doubted he would live on in his memory. Bud never liked to even mention his deceased wife. JD was under the impression they might have loved each other at some point; if his mom didn't, then why would she be so distressed enough to kill herself? To be driven to that extreme, she must have been in pain, but someone can't feel that kind of pain unless they had something wonderful taken from them. JD wondered what she must have been thinking in those last moments as she took the time to wave goodbye. Him and Bud? Did her life flash before her eyes? Was it quick? Was she scared or did she just take one last breath, spare her son a moment of her now limited time, and accept it? Was she finally happy?

One thing was for sure, when JD died, no one would even be left to remember her. What was the point of injecting himself into lives and places he'd leave without a trace in less than even half a year? Especially when it seemed to always be the same in the worst possible ways; the same bullies and nerds and elites and losers caught in a vicious cycle of eat or be eaten.

Then there were the people like him, rejects through and through, yet somehow JD had succeeded in being even lower on the totem pole. He was a temporary reject, a perpetual new kid; the best scenario was for mildly curious peers to ask a few obligatory and politely interested questions about where he was from last and then leave him to his own devices.

And JD did enjoy his devices. His wires and pliers, his glock and cartridges of bullets and his Slurpees. An odd assortment, but they were his. They made him feel good. They were constants. Nothing wrong with that. Didn't everyone need constants, things they and look to for a sense of familiarity when everything else in the world wasn't, when there was nothing else to turn to and when the people who were supposed to catch you weren't strong enough to hold on for just a little longer?

But it wasn't a big deal. After all, some people had books or music or games or clothes. JD had some choice literature himself actually.

And he also had guns, bombs, and 7-Eleven. Different strokes for different folks.

Mel liked music. Loved it. It was obvious she adored the strum of a guitar and the beat of a deep bass as much as he did the designs and power of a bouncing betty's or a cherry bomb.

JD wondered if she was just a music fan or whether it was something she adopted, something that held her together.

And Mel was held together. She actually seemed happy. She worked hard and drank hard and sang loudly and danced in time and made stupid jokes and things went over her head to the point JD wasn't surprised she didn't finish school or feel the need to. She worried over things she didn't need to and tried to be funny, but when people laughed, it was sometimes at her, not with her, and she frankly ate like a pig and she really, really, needed to be more careful about the people she let in.

But that was okay. JD could handle all that. What made him perplexed was that despite all these observations, he didn't know a thing about her. JD surmised from what he had heard was she was once a kid with barely any experience or options who had to be desperate and a little stupid to run away from everything. It could have been easier for her to wait it out until college or when she could just move away at eighteen. It was the smart thing, the patient thing to do, but for some reason, Mel took a leap of faith and decided to take a path that could have gone a whole different direction.

It seemed Mel took most things by faith. Faith she would find a place to sleep, faith she would survive, faith Heather Chandler wasn't as much of a huge cunt then she was, and faith he wasn't some two faced punk who would take advantage of her kindness. All these evaluations were made on blind, unjustified faith or gut instinct with no foolproof, indisputable logic behind the reasoning. It was miraculous she was doing as well as she was.

But that was okay too. JD knew she wasn't perfect. Neither was he. He wasn't stupid. He knew he wasn't quite right. He knew he had scratches and dents and damage. He knew he wasn't entirely okay, but she wasn't either.

So was it really so crazy they could be okay together? Mel was there and real and she cared about him.

JD tried to think hard, tried to reach into every corner of his mind for some shred of a memory of someone who had come close to that. It was a bit hard to swallow when he really took the time to care. Had there really been no one else until this point?

Maybe on a good day his dad. Maybe. His mother did, once, but evidently it wasn't enough. Aside from that, JD had to say, it seemed true that there was no one else and when he realized it, it almost made him depressed. Had he really been such a shadow all this time? Had he really been that insignificant? The thought made him want to drink ten slushies in consecutive order.

But then JD remembered: there was someone. Maybe they weren't there before, they couldn't be, but they were there now. Someone who was real, not part of the strange little society of teens who were children in adults clothes and attitudes, or at least pretended to be. Someone who had voluntarily made him a part of their own life in a way JD couldn't decide whether he liked or not.

Mel looking after him, joking with him, scolding him, fussing over him, and getting angry and upset on his behalf were things he liked. A lot, actually.

And when her lackadaisical voice turned sharp and her placid eyes burned, it didn't just make his spine tingle, his palms sweat, and his pants involuntarily tight; though JD wasn't sure if he could name the sensation with just one or two words. He supposed if he had to absolutely had to pick, the first thing to pop up would be warmth. Warmth in his fingers and toes and his belly and his chest and his face, almost like coming inside a heated building when it's chilly out or being submersed head to foot in a hot bath.

To be protected was maybe the single most awkward and confusing and embarrassing and pulse pounding and wonderful thing he had felt in a long time.

That's where the gun came in, partially for admittedly self serving reasons. If anything happened to her, where would that leave JD? It was unthinkable for Mel to just not exist, not as things were. How could JD go back to his definition of a 'normal' life when she had found him and forced him to see what normal could be? So, yes, part of it was for JD's own benefit, but since it was also aiding Mel, then it must have been an acceptably normal way of thinking.

JD knew he wasn't _normal_ per say. But he could enjoy the things everyone else did, right? Couldn't he like someone, be happy when he saw them, and want to share things with her and wonder what things she liked?

And maybe to Mel it wasn't normal now, but what if she came to see him in a whole new light?

JD knew he wasn't unattractive; he could be appealing. If not for his new kid status and disregard for his peers, JD was certain he could have at the least gotten a girl to look at him twice. The mystery kid vibe might have worked too, but JD knew Mel wouldn't take the bait, because to her, he was just that. A kid, a stranger, and one with serious issues at that.

But she did like him. She said he was smart and good looking and talented and tough. And mature. And if that wasn't working to JD's advantage, she knew he could take care of himself, clean and cook, and hold an engaging conversation. She had actually assumed with no input from him that he was popular with girls, so Mel must have seen some merit in him as more than a stray kid she let stay over.

What if she was just as uncertain? JD bet his life she would try to forcibly shove down any attraction, which J. D. was confident they could overcome. He'd be eighteen and on his own before they knew it. He'd leave his old life behind, wave goodbye to his dad as he moved on to the next town alone. JD could easily envision them waking up side by side, his back scratched and her hips sore, but both of them satisfied and comfortable in Mel's bedroom-

No, correction. _Their_ bedroom, being the next and last place he would ever unpack his belongings. After that, he'd toss the suitcase straight into the trash. Leaving their love nest wasn't on the table. Or maybe he would keep it if Mel wanted to go somewhere out of town for the honeymoon. JD knew some places in the country she'd get a kick out of.

These things were so real now. They could be real. They _would_ be real.

There was no way the possibility hadn't at least briefly passed through Mel's mind. JD wouldn't dismiss the notion, not when there was such a good chance she had looked at him as more than a kid or watched him cook and thought how nice it would be to have a man like him to help her and keep her company in that old house.

JD felt a laugh threaten to escape from his mouth and held the pillow tighter to contain himself; he could faintly hear music down the hall.

What if Mel was listening to a love song and thought of him?

Later that day, when school had been little more than blip in his radar, JD had nearly gotten into a crash in the parking lot rushing to leave. He didn't get a chance to talk to her much that morning; apparently Sheila had a sort of emergency she needed her at the bar and Mel only had time to cook him eggs sunny side up with slightly burnt toast before rushing out the door.

JD was glad to have the helmet covering his smiling face as he sped down the streets; he almost ran a red light. Mel should be working now; it was really a shame he couldn't visit her at the bar. JD was pretty sure at seventeen, he wouldn't even be allowed to sit at the counter. Mel herself might not allow it, thinking he should be home and studying for his bright future, not lounging around a dive bar on a school night.

Didn't she understand? This was their future. It was already in motion; JD just had to tread lightly for the time being. He almost didn't go to see her that night at all; it might have been too much. He had wanted to go to her work after school, but it made more sense to go home, fly through his homework and any chores before riding off to her place.

JD felt more and more on pins and needles as he drove down the now familiar road to her house; when JD saw it come into sight, he couldn't help speed up. It was like going home after a long, tiring day, except he actually wanted to be there. JD didn't even bother knocking on the door, just let himself in with the key now hung on a chain around his neck, and stepped right in.

"Hey-"

JD immediately fell silent; Mel wasn't in the living room and her shoes weren't on the welcome mat. And he could hear music. Odd music. It sounded a few decades old and it was faint. A woman's voice sang softly to the piano, a light tremble in the otherwise sweet, husky soprano. JD frowned as he listened; this wasn't Mel's music at all. He shut the door quietly behind him and ventured a little farther into the space, ears at attention. The recording was coming from Mel's room.

 _"I will always think of you, I see your face when each day is through…"_ The voice faded like a sigh. _"And days go past….but memories they last~"_

JD carefully made his way down the hall, trying his best not to step on the creakiest parts of the floorboards. The door at the end of the hall was only a inch open, but the smell of whiskey hit his nose like a glass was being held under it. Maybe Mel had spilled a bottle.

 _"Summer, winter, year by year, I'll hear this song inside my ear….try to restart...that'd be smart, but thoughts of you haunt my heart….~"_

" _What the hell...is that lady here?"_

JD remembered that Mel mentioned Sheila and Gary sometimes dropped by in a blue moon. Perhaps one of them had come to check in on the place or watch it while Mel was dealing with the work emergency. This crooning sort of tune sounded more like the old school music Gary would like; Mel often said he disliked most modern artists. JD felt a bit on edge; if Mel's surrogate father was there, would he give him the third degree?

He took a quiet deep breath and peered through the crack in the door; a record was spinning around and around. JD didn't think Mel owned a record player, but there it was, it's needle keeping the disk on track and the piano gently flowed, the notes breaking the tense silence. Two bottles of Jack Daniel's, one empty the other half full, sat near the contraption. A glass with only melting ice cubes inside made a wet spot on the table.

Mel was sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing the door. She seemed to be holding something to her chest.

 _"It's her-"_

"Spring and autumn, up and down...I keep trying to escape this town…" she broke off with a melancholy sigh. "I'll take flight….maybe tomorrow, not tonight…" her voice rose and fell as the record came to a stop.

JD stood there, waiting. The piano continued to drift into another soft melody. Mel bent her head and held the mystery object closer to her chest.

"Jason…"

"Mel?"

She didn't jump. "Oh, you."

"The one and only."

Mel scooted over around to face him; tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes, but she was smiling. "You have jokes...funny." she laughed weakly and flopped over to the other side of the bed to reach for her glass. The headphones she was cradling switched to one arm as she poured herself another glass. Then out of nowhere, she set the bottle down like it had burned her hand.

"Oh god Jason...I'm so sorry, I-I wasn't expecting-" Mel's blurry eyes tried to focus to no avail; she patted her hair and looked at him worriedly. "Oh god, you shouldn't see-I'm so, so sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Mel, it's cool. It's not like I gave you warning." JD studied her. "How long have you been drinking?"

"If I can tell you, I haven't been drinking enough." Mel giggled again but sobered up just as fast. "You...you should go to the living room. I-I think there might be food, or I can give you money for pizza or-"

"What's wrong?"

Mel's mouth trembled and she put a hand to her face. "God, look at me. Isn't it enough the only other adult in your life is a no good drunk? What a joke, me getting mad at him when I'm just as bad."

JD sat down on the bed slowly. "Yeah, unless you're taking swings at me, I wouldn't say that."

Mel's eyes glistened; she didn't seem to have heard him. "I'm so pathetic...I just keep letting people down…Jason...I'm sorry to do this to you. I think...I think you shouldn't come here anymore."

JD tried to laugh. "Mel, you're just a little drunk."

"No. I...I can't help you." Mel's glassy eyes came to look at the broken headphones in her shaky hands. "Jason, grow up okay?"

"What?"

"Grow up. Get out of this town. Get out of this place and go to college or make a career for yourself. Go have the life you deserve. The one he should have had."

"He?"

"Jason, you have to promise me!" Mel's voice rose and cracked. "Please, you...you can't stay, you can't live this way forever. You have to get out of it. I know you're smart and strong...but sometimes it's not enough. The world will take you down anyway because it can. You can't let it Jason…"

JD watched as she let the tears fall down her blotchy cheeks and off her wobbling chin, gaze glued to the headphones; Mel bit her lips and held them closer, like they were her baby.

"Jason, please...please don't...please…."

"Mel…"

He moved closer and put a hand on Mel's as she gripped the broken thing closer.

"He should have grown up."

"Who's he, Mel?" JD whispered so softly he thought she might not have heard him.

"That old bitch's name was in the obituary today."

JD frowned; was she talking about Sheila?

"That bitch. Sheila showed it to me...thought I should reach out, but why? She never liked me, didn't give a shit what happened." Mel ground out lowly. "You know, her and dad never said so, but I knew they always blamed me. They never did like me much. Too chatty, too stupid, they hated my music. He was the favorite. He was smart and funny and cute and he loved their music...he always tried so hard to make them happy…"

JD kept a gentle grasp on Mel's hand as she mumbled drunkenly; it was truly as if she didn't even realize he was there. But then, nearly two bottles of straight whiskey might do that to a person.

"He was bratty to me, but he liked me best. He knew he didn't have to be perfect for me Jason, not for me...he knew I loved him." Mel gave the headphones a watery smile. "But he wasn't that smart...if you're riding your bike, you shouldn't listen to music when you go so fast."

"Mel...are you talking about your brother?"

"Oh yeah. Little brother. He was...he was nine. Nearly a decade passes and...he still feels so close Jason. After he got hit, they tried to forget him, never talked about him. The guy driving the car had a wife and she died too; he killed himself a few months later, but no one wanted to remember. My parents never talked to me about it, but I knew. They thought I should've watched him better. If I knew...I'd have never let him go."

Mel let out a gasp of a sob and grit her teeth against the well threatening to overflow. "Jason…"

"It's okay Mel-"

"But it's true. I did let him down. And how could I just forget that? And today…" Mel glanced at the bottles with a broken smile. "Ya know, I bet your dad drinks to forget like me, but it won't work. It's never enough. You drink and drink and you might be happy for a bit, but it'll come back if you don't keep drinking and moving and moving, anything to escape the hole...I bet that's why Jason. I can drink until I pass out and leave those toxic assholes behind and start over, but the past doesn't change. And your old man can't escape that no matter how hard he tries; unfortunately, you're there for the ride."

Mel took his hand and held it. "And now you have to deal with two messes. Damn kid, you just can't catch a break."

"You're not broken. A little worse for wear maybe, but you're not broken Mel." JD told her firmly in the same just louder than a whisper tone. "Don't try to forget. Embrace the pain and deal with it. It's the best thing to do. I can help you with that, if you let me."

"I know, you're right. God you're smart." Mel laughed briefly. "It's just...on days like these, it hurts too much to remember. I know I can't stay like this. Don't worry, I'll sober up. I'll be okay again." Mel said as she squeezed his hand. "Tomorrow, but not tonight. I'm sorry I'm so selfish."

"You're not selfish. You're the only one who gives a shit it seems about more than yourself."

Mel snorted. "Yeah, I'm a fucking saint."

"You're okay Mel. You care. You're real and it hurts, but it hurts because you loved him so much. That's more than I can say about some people." JD let out a breathy chuckle but he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a clammy hand on his cheek.

"I know you'll think I'm crazy...but I think I was meant to meet you."

JD didn't dare breathe too loudly and risk breaking the spell as Mel smiled at him through her puffy eyes. Her own breath hit him and he inhaled the sharp scent of alcohol.

"It's like...I don't know, I got a second chance to do good. I loved Jason so much, but I couldn't deliver. Ain't that the worst?" Mel slurred as she let her thumb run up and down against his heated skin tenderly. "If something happened to you because I couldn't help...it'd just be a big slap to the face...you know, he was a lot like you even. Smart and a bit of a smart ass. A deep thinker. And he was a cute kid. He could have really gone places, but…"

He saw the tears well out of her unfocused eyes once more. "He never will and I just can't seem to get that out of my head. Everyday I wake up and I know it's been years...but I can't stop thinking of the man he could have grown up to be. In that awful place, he was all I had to have faith in. And then he was gone."

"You're okay Mel." JD repeated. "You're doing good now. If you weren't here today, I'd be in that place still too."

Mel sighed gently. "I can't stand to think the same thing might happen to you if you stick around your dad. Get me kid? You have to keep going. You have to grow and be better. God, look at who's giving you advice? A dumb, careless, good for nothing-"

"Stop it."

Mel fell silent and looked down at her brother's headphones; she took her hand away and traced the fingers along the headband. JD wondered if those words were hers or the echoes of someone else's voice.

"Mel...you're the only thing in this world I have faith in. You're the only one. So don't talk about yourself that way or I'll get insulted." JD told her slowly; he waited for her to look up and smiled lightly. "I don't care if you get sloshed now and then. Just don't get upchuck on me and stay away from peanuts."

"It's not that bad." Mel smiled a bit. "They just give me hives."

"Let's not take chances. Stick around and keep me from falling into juvenile delinquency. But you better keep those damn rock and roll records away from me, or they'll poison my impressionable mind."

Mel really did laugh this time. "Am I a bad influence?"

"Nah, only on Tuesdays."

She giggled and slapped JD's shoulder. "Oh can it." she wiped her face and gave one last somber smile at the headphones. "Is it masochistic that I keep them?"

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Yes. Sometimes." Mel shrugged. "If I tossed them...it'd be like throwing out the last piece of him. That and the quilt."

"Huh?"

"The pink one. My folks thought Jason was going to be a girl and my grandma made it; by the time they knew the truth, she was dead and it was the last thing she had sewed. Jason wouldn't let it leave his sight for years...they wanted to throw it out, but I stole it the morning of his funeral."

Mel's face was still sad, but calm; her once cracked voice was back to it's lazy tone. "I don't care if my mom's dead. I just wish Jason had lived as long as she did and she had been the one to get run over. But shit happens I guess."

"You realize you could have told me about this, right? I mean, I'm no stranger to having to deal with death in a family."

"I know. It's not your responsibility to deal with that though. I can't push my issues on you, it wouldn't be fair."

"Mel, if you think I'm so mature, you'd at least tell me about this beforehand." JD nudged her arm. "Come on, aren't we friends here?"

"Well, you know now. It can't be helped." Mel sighed wryly. "Thank you Jason. You're a good kid. I just wish I could do more for you."

JD kept his gaze on her as she put away the headphones gingerly and began cleaning up the table, bottle in her arms and cup in hand.

"You already have. Your brother was lucky to have you love him as much as you did. You must have made him pretty happy when he was alive."

Mel looked back at him in mild surprise, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from seeping out as JD looked at her with clear warmth in his stare.  
"I mean it. You loving him and being there for him was probably the best thing that could have happened."

Mel's lips quirked up slowly until she found herself beaming and laughing as carefree as she had the first day they met.

"Well kid, if that's how it is, then I'll do the same for you."

She must have been too drunk or too cheerful to notice the expression on JD's face.

"I'm going to sleep this off. Goodnight Jason. And thank you."

The door closed gently; Mel placed the bottles in the trash and rinsed out her glass before retiring to the couch, her heart lighter and her resolve firm. It wasn't too late. JD was left to sit on the bed with her promise ringing in his thoughts.

 _"I knew it._ "

It wasn't too late; if it was uncertain before, it wasn't now. JD fell back on the bed and tried to sleep a little for the coming day. There was a lot to plan and even more to look forward to.

They'd be okay.


	9. And Shadows Still Remain

After Mel spent a good twenty minutes throwing up her guts at five in the morning, she drank three cups of water, brushed her teeth and scrubbed her tongue with half a tube of toothpaste, and passed out on the couch once again, light headed and heavy, trying to forget her brother's abruptly cut off yell as the tires of that car screeched and knocked him a good ten feet down the road. Mel tried to block it out by mentally tuning in to 'November Rain', which only served to make her bummed out because she couldn't get her mind on a happier song.

But eventually, sleep did come and it seemed to end all too soon.

"Wake up sleeping beauty."

Mel forgot how to open her eyes instead. "Mrmmgh?"

"I assume from your less than coherent response you didn't get alcohol poisoning, but you look like you did."

The back of Mel's head must have been glued down as tightly as her eyelids; she could barely open her mouth to gurgle his name.

"Can you sit up?"

Mel shook her head slow as to not make her brain rattle in her skull.

"Okay, just hang tight." JD slowly put his hands under her head and back to scoot her up the pillow on the armrest. "I brought you some water. Can you drink it?"

"Uhuh." Mel nodded weakly and managed to open her eyes a crack. "Jason…? What time...ugh, I'm sleepy…"

JD smiled and stopped himself from kissing her slack mouth. "I can tell from the bedhead. It's ten in the morning."

"What?!" Mel fell right back down as soon as she tried to sit up; the room was tilting. "Oh god…" she whined and put a hand to her forehead. "I'm late-and your school-"

"I told pop I was taking a sick day 'cause my friend gave me a cold and he called the school. I called Sheila and told her you were hungover and sleeping it off. She said she'd come by later and bring you something to eat."

"Aw, Sheila..." Mel smiled and sighed. "Dammit...she was worried I'd do this too. I'll never heard the end of it from Gary...fuck. And your dad bought it?"

"He doesn't care." JD swept her hair from her face and she felt something damp and cold. "This'll cool you down. Drink."

Mel didn't have time to say anything before she felt the rim of the cup pressed between her lips; JD tipped it forward just so, letting the water skim her mouth and he wouldn't pull it away until she drank a few gulps. Her throat restored, she sighed once again and smiled at him apologetically.

"Sorry kid. It's like no matter where you go you're dealing with blithering drunks."

"You're not a blithering drunk. You're a sad, sleepy drunk."

"Is that better?"

"And you have the voice of a drunk angel."

Mel put a hand to her temple. "Oh yeah...I sing when I drink enough. I was listening to his records and….I guess I just got sentimental. He liked me to sing to him, even if it sucked."

JD shook his head. "You sounded good. I thought it was the radio."

"Thanks." Mel shrugged. "You know, I used to make fun of him for liking that oldies stuff. It's like, ancient. But I was just jealous because our parents thought I was a disaster waiting to happen…"

JD wasn't sure whether or not she was still drunk. Her gaze was still a bit fogged up, but maybe it was because she was in her own world. Mel sighed and leaned back with a wistful smile.

"Yeah, I was the black sheep. I liked garbage music and I cursed and I drank my first beer when I was twelve and I wasn't that great in school...I got into fights...I didn't pay attention, just barely scraped C's. They never liked me much at all and after Jason died, they didn't even bother tolerating me. I never got close to them, so I didn't care much...but Jason was different. He was the only real family I had. And I ruined it."

"...Mel, what happened?"

"Like I said, he was riding his bike, had his headphones on and was going just a little too fast. The driver turned the corner, only had a second to stop, but it was too late. His wife was in the front seat and she died in the hospital. He hung on for a while, but I guess it was too much. My parents sent flowers to his funeral, but they couldn't look their own daughter in the eye without giving dirty looks."

Mel ran a hand through a tight knot in the end of her hair. "Ow. Anyway, they just wanted to put it behind them and move on. You know, some people just weren't meant to be parents."

"Tell me about it toots." JD winked and tried to hand her the cup.

Mel took it and drank. "But Jason was all I had worth living for...any friends I had got sick of being around me after a while. I didn't blame them. Who wants to hang around a mope who can't get over their dead little brother? But I couldn't help it...I just couldn't pretend. I really do admire you Jason."

"Oh stop."

"I'm serious!" Mel laughed at the way JD batted his eyes and waved his hand. "You goof, I really do. You're doing so well and you saw your own mom...well, you're not stewing in your own misery. You're moving forward. I only just started getting my life together after finding Gary and Sheila."

JD sat down by her and leaned on the side of the armrest. "You act like I'm doing all these great things. I'm no better than you."

"Maybe not now, but you will be. You have something Jason...you can make it. Me?" Mel turned over on her side; their faces weren't that far apart and JD cursed her internally. "Maybe this is off base, but I get the feeling you think I'm this kind, open person who has their shit together and can help...and I want to, I really do, but there's no guarantee."

"Of what?"

"That there's, like, this goodness in me you seem to see. The truth is, there's a mix of things. I do care, but I get angry and sad and self doubting and just plain dumb and reckless. And empty. There's this void and nothing can make it better and it affects almost everything I do. Jason, I have to tell you now, because you sound like you're ready to count on me...but I don't think I'm really who you think I am. I have to say this now, because I realize I'm way in over my head. I'm in no position to be-"

"If you say one more shitty thing about yourself, I'm dumping this whole cup on your head to snap you out of it, 'cause I'm sure this is 50% failed sense of perception, 40% bull, and 10% after effects of the booze still in your system. Mel, no one knows you better than yourself, but no one can see the best parts of you without the rest getting in the way."

Mel blinked as JD took a drink of water for himself; he raised his glass with a dry smirk.

"You want to know what I think? I think your guilt over your kid brother is making you delusional. Let me tell you something sweetheart: I'm not him. I can take care of myself and you don't need to feel bad if I get hurt. You're not responsible for me. That's not what I need from you, to be my caretaker. I just need...well, I need someone to help remind me this world isn't so hopeless as it seems. And you do that for me."

"I don't-" Mel's eyes widened as JD put a finger to her lips and hushed her.

"Nope, not done. You drink, water that is, and I'll talk. Where was I? Right, your idea that you're not as good as I know you are. Well, you're wrong. And you know what? Stop calling yourself dumb. You're. Not. Dumb. You obviously know practical math skills needed to file taxes and work with money, you can read decently from what I can tell, you're good at reading a room, you're empathetic, and your voice is beautiful."

Mel almost choked on her water; JD waited patiently for her to finish coughing before continuing.

"It is. And you are, and I don't just mean looks. Anyone who can find it in themselves to feel any sort of pity for Heather-mythic-tyrant-bitch-Chandler must have a heart of gold." JD pulled out a cigarette from the inside of his duster and examined it before giving it a favorable nod. "Oh, not to mention that scheme you pulled out of thin air."

Now Mel was really confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Sheila was on the phone with me for nearly an hour. I sort of lost track of a lot of what she was saying, but I was all ears when she recounted the tale of you framing Heather's lousy date for drug possession. I take it you're a decent actress from how well you were able to convince the cop Heather was this innocent, scared little girl and had nothing to do with the evils of those big bad college junkies. Color me impressed Mel, I didn't think you'd be capable of deceit."

"Sheila told you?! Oh god, that gossip!" Mel slapped her forehead and yelped in pain. "Ow. Dammit it all...are you convinced now I'd be a shitty adult figure to trust?"

JD lit a match with a practiced sort of grace; he held the flame to one end of the cigarette and blew it out with a sly smile. "Why'd you do it?"

Mel raised and eyebrow and took the cloth off her head. "Why?"

"Yes Polly Parrot. Why?"

"Those guys were dicks...and...Jason, I don't feel right talking to you about this any more." Mel said carefully. "I promised Heather I wouldn't even mention it to anyone else. Bitchy as she is, I won't do that. She's a kid. I just hopes she can get her act together before it bites her back one of these days. It seems like it already might be…"

JD stared at her as he puffed smoke. "Do you like her?"

"Well, I guess." Mel shrugged. "I don't hate the kid. I don't like what she says or does, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel for her either. That being said, she wasn't happy with what I did. I was surprised...not that I thought she'd thank me or anything, but it's like...I don't know. You'd think no one had ever done anything nice for her before, but that can't be right. Isn't she, like, one of those popular chicks at your school?"

"Sure. The Heathers are nothing short of revered. They're the three most hated and loved students of Westerberg High. They're envied, admired, and feared and the most shallow, saddest type of people to see in action. They make anyone the lives of anyone they dislike a living hell. To be acknowledged by them is a blessing."

"Oh please, you gotta be kidding me. Is your school that boring? Jesus, sounds like these kids need to get a hobby." Mel rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her water. "Or get laid or something."

"Tell me about it…"

"So, what's your point?"

"Heather Chandler is the queen of the hive and she will sting like a bitch." JD took a slow drag. "You may not be a subject of her little kingdom, but I'd keep my distance if I were you."

Mel laughed. "What could she possibly do?"

But JD didn't crack a smile.

"She's poison. She's the kind of person who poisons everyone she comes into contact with. You know how misery loves company? That was about Heather Chandler; happy, well adjusted people don't work to make others feel shitty or ruin their reputations or pick at their flaws. Miserable people do all that and more, because they can't face the fact they're just as flawed. They can't handle it. So, they make other people just as ugly as they are to compensate because no matter what they do or how many people like them or at least claim to, they know deep down how rotten they truly are. And they know they can't change it. Not really."

"Jason...don't you think that's a bit harsh? Sure, maybe she will grow up and be an asshole, but she's, what, seventeen or so? Life for her is only just starting. Who knows? She might grow up someday to be a decent person or at least someone who realizes that tearing down people won't make themselves feel better." Mel said gently. "Look at me. I mean, I don't know how much I've changed, but you seem to think I'm pretty cool."

"Cool? I don't know if I'd use that term."

JD stubbed out his cigarette in an empty soup can Mel had put there sometime ago for him to use. JD couldn't light another one fast enough; he needed to keep his mouth occupied before he blurted out, 'I'd use something more along the lines of perfection.' But he could light a cigarette pretty damn fast.

"Yeah, yeah." Mel said dismissively. "Jason, promise me you won't say anything about this? I mean it. If Heather's done anything to you, then don't stoop to her level."

"Mel, do I look like the kind of guy who'd do that?"

"No, but you really seem to hate her." Mel said. "Did she do something to you?"

"Not as of yet. She's been preoccupied lately it seems." JD said; that was the truth.

For a few days the demon queen of Westerburg seemed to be in her own little world half the time, three times as dismissive as usual and firmly in place as the leader of her troops, but her acts of malicious and snotty cruelty were practically nonexistent. Rumor has it that she had a special guy on her mind. At least, that was typically why ladies her age acted peculiarly out of nowhere.

"Why'd you do it Mel?"

"Still on this? Cut me some slack kid, huh?" Mel sighed and propped herself up tentatively.

"I swear I won't breathe a word if you're straight with me. I'm just curious anyway. I'm not stupid enough to mess with the Heathers."

"I wonder if that gets confusing...do they ever use, like, code names?"

"Mel. Focus."

"Oh yeah. Jason, I really don't know what to tell you...I felt bad. Her date was being a dick, she went to the bathroom, and-"

JD pretended to act nonchalant as Mel came to a halt. "What? Don't tell me she got stuck in the can?"

"No kid, she...she was crying. At least that's what it sounded like. And she sounded like she was upset with herself." Mel drew up her knees and tried to not reel from the movement; she didn't feel like hurling anymore, so that was a plus. "Maybe that's why. No one deserves to be treated like trash, at least not by themselves…."

JD put out his cigarette prematurely as he went to sit in front of her. "Mel, she's nothing like you."

"Isn't she? I mean, we're different as can be, but she's just as snarky and stubborn as I used to be. And...well, we don't seem to like ourselves much, even when we have a bunch of people saying otherwise."

"The people who claim to like Heather are liars or they just want something from her. You're not like her Mel."

"You know Jason, you two might have some common ground if you stopped to look."

JD chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, we're two peas in a pod."

"Don't be like that. I mean, you're both not what you seem...you both seem to have pretty hands off parents who couldn't give less of a damn. It seems like you two just decided to handle it in different ways. Like I said Jason, you might be a loner, but if you wanted to, I bet you could infiltrate them." Mel laughed blithely at JD's eye roll. "Well, your old man's company is successful, right? Plus you're good looking; start dressing like a preppy, get into underage drinking, and switch the bike for a BMW, and they'd take you in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, I think I'd rather get run over."

Mel's teasing smile fell and her eyes went wide.

"Oh shit. Mel, I-"

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it like that." Mel told him before he could say anymore.

JD ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, that was fucking stupid."

"Don't you start now." Mel let her legs fall over the edge of the cushion as she reached to squeeze his hand briefly. "It's okay, really."

"Mel, just don't get too close to her. She's bad news and you don't need that." JD spoke with quiet urgency. "I don't want you to have anything to do with any of that bullshit. Just stay how you are. You're the only thing keeping me from just burning that place to the ground."

"Hey, one more year and it's over and done with, right?" Mel's smile was wiped off her face. "Oh...wait, will you even be here that long?"

"Don't worry about that. I'm going to be eighteen next month, way before my dad will decide to move again. It's too early now, but by the time I'm legally able to move out, he won't have any say in the matter."

Mel sat upright, forgetting her state. "What? You can't live on your own! What about finishing school? If you drop out to get a job to pay for a place-"

"Mel, hold on, let me finish." JD took back her hand, both of them, and look her straight in the face. "I only want to stick around in this town because I actually have a reason to. But you're right, I can't finish school if I have to get a full time job. That's why…"

Mel was stunned; JD never hesitated.

"Would you be willing to let me move in? Just until I graduate and save up some cash?"

"Are you serious?"

JD didn't want to say that for a moment he felt like his chest was going to cave in until he saw Mel smile in what was approval.

"Of course! But what about college?"

"I was thinking of just staying in state, but to be honest, I'm not sure what I want to do yet. I just know I want to stay here."

JD kept from adding the unspoken, 'with you, so please, stay away from that toxic bitch, she doesn't deserve anything from you'.

Heather Chandler was a parasite. Sheila had only just casually mentioned how Mel had apparently fixed her messed up her hair and helped her over her sickly state, but the very idea, they very hint that those hands had touched someone so vile and horrible and plain _wrong_ was disgusting enough to make JD want to throw up himself. That wasn't even mentioning how far Mel had stuck her neck out for her; what if she had gotten caught and the cops had found out where the pot really came from? Would Heather have lifted a finger to aid her? Of course not. JD would have shot them all dead, but Heather Chandler would let Mel take the fall, even though it was for her benefit.

She'd never appreciate Mel like he did; she wasn't even worthy of the back of her hand, let alone any concern. And anyway, he had met Mel first.

But JD didn't want to focus on that now. All he wanted to do was remember this very moment where Mel's hand fit just perfectly in his and her smile was so bright despite her looking exhausted and dragged through the coals. JD already knew she'd say yes, but to hear her sound so eager was more than satisfying. It was just further proof of his standing. Heather was merely some random pity case.

But not him. He actually _meant_ something.

And if Mel was this happy about JD moving in, he could only imagine her reaction to what would come next.


	10. I Just Couldn't Tell Her So

"Huh?"

Heather Chandler cocked her hip and put on hand on her waist. "Did I stutter?"

"No...wait, did she?" Kurt turned to Ram, who was too busy trying to get his arm far enough around Heather Duke's shoulder to grope at her chest. She sent Heather McNamara a look of pleading as she pushed aside the persistent hand.

"Is your brain so fucking tiny it can't comprehend what a stutter is?"

"...no?"

Heather breathed through her nose as she switched the gear on her porsche in the parking lot. "I said, I'm hungry. I am going to pick out something to eat on our way to your bogus party and you will pay for it."

Kurt seemed to be thinking it over, brow furrowed in the utmost concentration for this harrowing task that may or may not result in he and his friend getting sex.

"Okay. Can we get beer?"

"No. The lady upfront won't buy that fake ass card." Heather told him with a similarly fake sweet tone that might be used to condescend to a kindergartener. "So just shut up and when me and Heather and Heather get our snacks, you will take out your wallet and use the little green papers inside to buy them. Can you do that Kurt?"

"Yeah!" Kurt nodded dutifully as he punched Ram in the shoulder to get his attention. "Got it?"

"What?"

Heather cursed them both. "Just get your asses in gear. Heather, Heather, follow me."

They jumped out of the car hurriedly and scrambled after their fearless leader, more than glad for a chance to breathe and straighten out their clothes.

It was a well known fact that Kurt and Ram were as dumb as bricks, yet as obedient as dogs when the unspoken promise of seeing a naked breast came into play. Not that any of that would be happening; in truth, all they were good for was a lay when instructed properly and for their pocket change. Heather felt a strange sort of satisfaction in particular from using them; if she wanted a fuck or to exert her will or to sponge cash from them, she could do it, and they'd be more than willing because she was, as Kurt so eloquently put it, 'a babe'.

But today she had a very different purpose in mind for using them, for as stupid and boorish and utterly hopeless as they were in every aspect of their lives, Kurt and Ram were gifted with the grace and strength they didn't have elsewhere to make passes and impossible touchdowns and even a smidgen of brainpower to understand football strategy. The letterman jackets were more than just to show school spirit and team unity.

They were symbols, badges of honor that they had something to be proud of. Even the rest of the town saw them as hometown heroes for racking up the points; two good 'ol American boys with good 'ol American values and a talent for slinging a ball of rubber and dead, leathered cow skin.

 _"God knows it's all they're good for."_

Heather contemplated them as they roughhoused like brothers in the parking lot, fighting for who would gain brownie points by opening the door for Heather, Heather, and Heather.

They also were lucky to be passably good looking, decent bone structure, thick hair, and when they didn't look like complete tards, they had winning smiles with straight, white teeth. It was too bad there was nothing of value behind the skull.

"Heather."

"Yes Heather?" Heather Duke immediately went to her leader's side as said Heather took out her compact mirror and fluffed her already perfectly coiffed blonde locks.

"How do I look?"

"Huh?"

"Wow, great Kurt impression." The little mirror snapped so sharply it made Heather McNamara jump in her shined penny shoes. "I'll repeat this since I'm feeling nice and hopefully you're not too stupid to give a good answer. How. Do. I. Look?"

"S-sorry Heather. You look perfect."

"Yeah, perfect, like you always do." Heather chimed in, playing with her fingers; her and Heather were still on thin ice for leaving Heather alone at the bar/restaurant.

"I know." Came the simple response.

Heather and Heather looked at each other as Heather swung back her voluminous hair and smacked her lips to evenly cover them with cherry red lipstick. Not once in all their years of following her, bending over backwards to keep in her good graces, or any other time as far back as they remembered, had she asked them for confirmation of her looks.

"The door is automatic neanderthals." Heather said coolly as she bypassed Kurt as he got Ram in a headlock; the doors slide to the sides as though she had commanded them to. While the boys scrambled after her, Heather and Heather dropped their curious stares to walk beside her, following back just by a few inches so no one made any mistake of who was the front of the pack.

"Welcome!" a voice called out from the other side of the store as the ding of new customers sounded through the speakers.

"Righteous!" Ram punched fists with Kurt as Aerosmith blared over the small radio resting on the counter. The two pretended to play air guitar as the other Heathers looked on in mixed expressions of embarrassment and exasperation.

"Hey," Heather Chandler yanked Kurt's hand down. "I said, we're getting food. Now be a good boy and shut up and come with me."

"Okay, okay Heather, don't get your panties bunched up…."

"What was that?"

Kurt shrugged and buried his hands in his jacket pockets. "Nothin'."

"That's right." Heather marched over to where she was sure the greeting had come from. "Heather, Heather, come on. Keep testing me and see what happens." she turned on their somewhat sobered up dates. "And you two dolts-just go get us something to eat from the hot bar while we choose snacks."

Ram and Kurt took off and switched to talking about their next practice and what kind of color panties the girls were probably wearing, while the girls trailed after Heather meekly. Mel was crouched down and getting a good grip on the crates of glass soda bottles as they approached her; she was trying very hard to not get dizzy. Gary had told her not to come in, but she felt bad enough for worrying Sheila; besides, she needed the money and the fresh air.

JD was borderline smothering. He kept bringing her water, insisting that she didn't do more than sit up, kept the blinds closed so the sun's rays wouldn't hurt her eyes, and continually made sure she kept the cold cloth over her head until her skin stopped burning. He even rode out to the nearest convenience store to buy aspirin, ginger tea, and to a Dunkin' Donuts to get her decaf coffee and a baker's dozen.

And when she finally did go to sleep, Mel could have sworn she heard breathing, soft and barely audible, but there. Or was it her own breathing amplified by her hangover? At any rate, JD was worrying too much, so she figured seeing her ready for work would convince him she would be fine.

"Don't you look cute in your...I'd call it a shirt, but it looks more like something the cat dragged in."

Mel smiled wryly to herself as she hoisted the three crates into the air. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Fine."

Mel blinked; she hadn't expected such a straightforward answer. Heather was staring at her expectantly.

"What?"

"We need service."

"Oh, well hold on a sec." Mel told the girls; she carried the crates over to the refrigerated drinks section near the front of the store. She squatted down to place them on the ground carefully before going over to the counter to turn down the music just a bit.

"What can I help you with?"

"Heather wants-"

"Shut up Heather."

"Sorry Heather."

Heather rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Does this place have anything that won't make me gain five pounds?"

"...Sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but this place is junk food city." Mel smiled crookedly. "If you want healthy, go to the organic section of the grocery store down the block."

Heather clicked her tongue impatiently. "We have a party to get to." she looked over her shoulder to give a flirty smile and a wave to Kurt, who was thankfully not looking too much like his head was an empty shell. "Quarterback is hosting."

"Oh that's nice."

"Nice?" Heather laughed. "It's the biggest party of the fall. Anyone who's anyone will be there."

"Eh, I don't follow sports." Mel shrugged. "Sounds like a riot though. The best I can recommend from here is to get diet soda."

"Heather needs to maintain her figure." Heather Duke shot back in exasperation. "Like, she can't just drink diet soda."

Her mouth immediately fell closed as Heather Chandler shot her a cold glare.

"Did I say you could talk? Are you forgetting your little lapse of judgement from the other night? When I talk, you don't. Is that going to be a problem Heather?"

Heather shrank to two feet tall. "Yeah...sorry Heather."

Heather McNamara kept to the side, eyes glued to the floor; Mel looked them over with a vague smile.

"Aren't you three just heartwarming."

"Whatever."

Heather was fuming; none of this was going according to her plan. It was like Mel didn't even care. Didn't Mel realize what kind of position she was in? She was actually right there, speaking to her, and Heather was allowing her to. She was in the presence of royalty and Heather herself was at the very center, the lower rungs at her beck and call.

But it didn't seem to phase Mel in the slightest.

 _"Well, what'd you expect stupid? She doesn't even go to high school."_

Heather kept her eyes averted as Mel went around the counter to man the register; she took out a little mirror of her own and a tube of shiny pink gloss that spread like honey glaze over her lips.

 _"Seriously? God, just shut up and die. Think one more stupid thing like that and you might as well crash your porsche into the side of the building."_

Because at the end of the day, she was everything to the student body of Westerberg High for only one more year.

One more year and it'd be on to college to find a man to support her and marry and who eventually she'd probably want to kill. That's all that ever seemed to happen in the futures of the Chandler women, or at the least women in high society. Go a year or so of college for the sake of meeting an educated and well off man to add to the empire of bullshit and wealth and then pop out a few screaming brats and spend your days watching daytime TV and organizing tedious get togethers with people you couldn't give less of a shit about while you swallowed your happy pills in secret while you prepared a roast for your cheating bastard of a husband who you stayed with for convenience.

But for whose convenience, Heather didn't know.

Mel was single from what she could tell. Mel probably would laugh hysterically at the life awaiting her, wave her off with a smirk as she went off to party and listen to rock, no one scrutinizing her every goddamn move. She'd be unattached and carefree and gorgeously wild, with arms strong enough to carry three huge crates, and probably strong enough to lift Heather herself, secure and warm-

"What are you wearing?" Heather demanded to know abruptly. "Is that cake icing?"

Mel puckered her lips not bothering to look up. "It tastes like it. Want to try some?"

"Excuse me?!"

Mel put a dab on her bottom lip. "Or I could tell you where to get it if you're scared I have lower class cooties."

"Pink is so juvenile."

"Mhm. And that lipstick is off a 1950's cosmo cover."

Heather scoffed and smirked. "Red goes with everything. But since you have zero fashion sense or style, you wouldn't know."

Mel leaned forward over the counter and yawned.

"What, don't believe me?"

Before Mel could answer Heather was rifling through her patent leather bag with shaky fingers to produce her tube of lipstick. She wore a look of haughty condescension as she turned the bottom to have the red tip come up. "Wipe off that ten cent crap. I'll prove it."

Mel cocked her head to the side but took a tissue from her purse and did so until her mouth was clean; her lips were actually a somewhat dull eraser pink. They were full and the cupids bow was naturally shaped. Heather leaned over just so and steadied Mel's chin with her own hand, ignoring the way the placid eyes were staring right into hers.

"Don't make me look like a clown, okay sweetie? I'm on the clock, so I need to look professional."

Heather smelled a hint of coffee and something bitter on her breath. "Keep your mouth shut and let me show you how a pro does it."

She traced the very tip over Mel's still upper lip, taking her time and watching closely as the natural shade went from dull and uninspiring to bright and alluring. She did only use the best; it made sense Mel's lips would look even more pouty with the right application, and Heather could already see what she'd look like with the right brand of eyeliner and mascara and maybe a dab of blush. Her skin was long cleared of adolescent blemishes, so cover up wasn't necessary; Heather could even tell exactly what shades would look best, though she doubted Mel would care much for anything heavier than a thin line of kohl and the gloss regularly.

Did she look the same in the morning when she woke up in bed, hair tousled and unkempt and lips maybe the slightest bit chapped?

What kind of house did she live in? Heather was absolutely certain it would look like a hovel compared to her own dwelling. She could picture a weathered couch and outdated curtains and dim bulbs and a somewhat messy room. Inside there would be a bureau lined with a few choice pieces of makeup and jewelry and probably tons of CDs or maybe even a few empty bottles of booze, the rims stained with that candy sweet gloss.

The bed would be a single. Heather could bring the image to mind easily by now. The mattress would be caved in. Mel didn't seem like she'd be the kind who flipped it over periodically to keep it's shape. Maybe there would be sheets to keep off dust or maybe she'd only bother with a blanket and a couple pillows. But, for some reason, it didn't matter much when Heather thought of Mel resting her head there every night.

And it made her wonder if she herself ever crossed the older woman's mind.

Heather blinked and swiped one last dash of red over the bottom lip. "Done. Don't smear it, this shit is better than anything you could probably afford."

 _"Yeah, she's loving this. Calling her ugly and poor and fashion challenged, that'll do wonders."_

But it usually did; at least it usually didn't matter what she said or how she said it. Heather's words were solid gold.

But it didn't. Everyone hated her. Everyone loved her. Everyone wanted to be her friend and everyone wanted her to choke. Everyone wished they could be her and everyone wished she could be anyone else. Heather knew why they flocked to her; the fear, the instinct to survive and get behind the most powerful member of a pack and to be under their protection and to be under their ranks to get what they wanted was just natural.

But that was high school, even if there was still some truth to the theory outside of it.

But what about Mel? Heather watched as she checker herself in the little mirror and her lips stretched into a bright smile that was already emphasized by the red.

What was her world like? Did she hold any sort of power for herself? Who did she look to for all the things she lacked, if there were any? And how? How did she do it and would she, did she, bring anyone else into this world that was unlike anything Heather might care to know of or dare to step in herself?

She was sure if she even toed the line, she'd be sucked in and powerless and how much would that blow? But then, maybe she'd get a different kind of power. What that was, she didn't know or really have faith in.

"This is so awesome! You could be a makeup artist or some shit Heather. Hell, you could be the makeup model." Mel laughed and the red shined in the light; she made a teasing kissy face and Heather's mind went fuzzy for a moment. "Not bad."

"It's good stuff right?" Heather put away her lipstick, making sure not to have the tip smudge against anything else. She wondered if her expensive makeup now smelled like coffee.

Mel beamed. "I think I pull it off decently enough for a stock girl."

 _"Don't look at me that way. Don't look at me like I'm your friend."_

Heather flipped the clasp of her bag into place. "You look-"

"Hey, what's cooking good looking?"

Heather wanted to dig her nails into Kurt's eyes as he stared down Mel's shirt and back to her own bewildered eyes. Ram was loaded with snacks and containers of hot dogs and chili fries, but he managed to give Mel a failed suave wink.

"Heather did a nice job. Maybe those lips could be-"

"What?"

Mel sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "Oh crap. Gary, now calm down, they're just a couple dumb kids-"

"Do I look like I give a shit?" Gary slammed down a box of frozen packs of ice cream bars and gave both Kurt and Ram the hardest glare. "These two are grown. Hey, you fuckheads-" he marched right over to them, leaving the lesser Heathers to stand to the wayside looking more anxious by the second. Heather Chandler was impassive but Mel was just shaking her head.

"Gary-"

"No. You," Gary got up in Kurt's face. "Mr. Quarterback, what the hell were you just going to say to my employee?"

"Nothing!" Kurt raised his hands and looked down at Gary innocently.

"No, you don't get to back down now that you've gotta deal with a real man." Gary persisted; he was a couple inches shorter and not in the best shape, but it was clear Kurt wasn't ready to deal with an irate adult who clearly didn't give two shits about who he yelled at. "She is a lady. You speak to her with respect, you greasy haired punk. You're damn lucky you didn't finish that sentence-and listen here, if you come in here again and if you or Tweedle Jackass say anything or do anything, to make any woman uncomfortable in my goddamn store, I will shove a bar of soap so far up your asshole your mouth will be clean for weeks. Do we understand each other?"

Kurt stepped back with a sulky frown. "Yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"Yes sir." Kurt said dully and Ram echoed seeing Gary give him the evil eye over his friend's shoulder.

"And you apologize to-you know what? Fuck it, just get the hell out of my store and don't even look at her again. That'll work."

"But our stuff-"

"Give these ladies the money and I'll let them check out. I would assume you two can at least do that fucking much."

"Fine man." Kurt handed Heather Duke his wallet before sending Gary a look.

"Yeah, look at me like that again and see what the fuck happens. You play football? Well I play baseball, and I can hit a home run on that fat head of yours." Gary called out as the two slipped away through the automatic doors; he sent them one last glare before turning on the Heathers. "Jesus, if you're going to go around with schmucks, can you at least go with ones that won't oogle the cashier?"

"Thanks Gary." Mel sighed. "Geez, you didn't even give me a chance to take out Mary Mae."

"Huh?" Heather McNamara seemed to snap out of her daze. "Who?"

"Oh, this." Mel pulled out a crowbar from under the counter. "I wouldn't have actually hurt the kid mind you, but as a friend once said, the extreme seems to leave an impression. But Gary already had me covered of course." she smiled fondly. "A gentleman through and through; even if you did look ready to go apeshit."

"You see those punks in here again, you call me. Christ, I got enough problems worrying about Shelly getting bothered at the bar."

"Sheila? Gary, she once broke a bottle against the table and threatened to twist it into some creeps face. I think she'll be okay."

Gary's hard expression turned dreamy. "Yeah…well, carry on. I'm going on break. I did my duty."

"Right…" Mel shook her head once more and smiled apologetically at the girls as she hid the crow bar. "I'll ring you up. Sorry, Gary gets a bit...well, you saw it."

"That was sooo scary…" Heather McNamara said softly, eyes flitting over to the break room's closed door.

Heather Duke nodded quickly in agreement. "Totally scary."

"Aw, he'd never go too far." Mel said blithely. "Hey, how's your stomach? Keeping things down okay?"

"Oh...yes."

"Good. Okay, that'll be twenty even."

"Here." Heather Chandler came forward. "Sorry about those two."

Mel almost missed the button to print the receipt. "Oh. It's okay, I wasn't freaked or anything. It was just sad. Like I'd give those chumps the time of day. I guess it's slim picking's in your school?"

"Should I keep chaste until I'm your age?"

Mel snorted. "That'd be the pits. I'd wait until you can meet someone worth your attention though. God knows you could do better. No offense, but those guys seem to share half a brain. Find someone you can at least talk to without their eyes going to your boobs for five seconds."

"Heather, Heather, take these out to the car."

The girls slipped away, grateful to be outside and away from the tension. Mel ripped out the slip of paper and handed it to Heather; she felt the tips of her nails scratch her palm as she took the receipt.

"What kind of...person are you interested in?"

Mel blinked. "Who, me? Well, someone with more than half a brain. I guess someone nice and funny and all that good shit." she ran a hand through her hair. "Someone I can count on and share my life with ideally. I guess that's pretty basic. Like, who wouldn't want that?"

"Not everyone deserves it." Heather intoned dully. _"Oh god, shut up and leave, you got what you came here for!"_

"That's crazy. Everyone deserves love, or at least a friend. A real friend." Mel added lowly; she rested her chin in her hand. "People you want to be around, not order around."

"Maybe those are the kind of people I want to be around."

"Suit yourself." Mel shrugged again. "Enjoy your...company."

"I assure you, I will." Heather said sharply as she made her way to the door.

"Be safe Heather."

Heather paused and chewed the inside of her cheek. "I can handle myself. I'm not a child."

"I know."

"Don't fuck up my makeup." Heather felt her feet carry her out the entrance. "Red's your color Mel."

The door's opened and closed swiftly and Heather disappeared into the night and her porsche so quickly she didn't see Mel's jaw drop just so.

"Um, Heather-" Heather McNamara tried to venture.

"Buckle up."

Heather's short tone left no room for argument as she turned on the engine; she paused before pulling out, hand hovering over the transmission before flipping on the radio, turning the dial until Aerosmith blared out the speakers and the windows and the beat of her frantic heart matched the pace of the drums trying to immerse herself into world she could only dream of that was filled with guitar solos, pink nails, bright smiles, and cherry red kisses.


	11. I Can Wait for the Nights with You

"Hey pop, did your lady friend give you this?"

Bud Dean stood at the threshold of JD's bedroom door, clad in a tracksuit and sweatband soaked from perspiration, his voice thick with irony.

"Gee son, you know you shouldn't be looking at those sorts of things." JD tried to take the bra from Bud's outreached hand, but his father wasn't quite smiling.

"I was looking for my pliers and looky what I found instead. Normally this would be my lucky day." Bud smiled in a tense sort of way. "But it seems you're the one who did."

JD shook his head. "This guy at school stuffed it in my bag as a prank."

"Oh really? Not getting some girl in trouble are we? I'm not having any brats crawling around here." Bud dropped the cordial tone almost entirely; it was one of the few and only times JD had seen him almost look like a father.

"None I can speak of."

"Then why is this still in the back of your closet?"

JD shrugged with a half smile. "I was thinking of using it to get back at the guy. Just to even the score, you know how it is."

Bud nodded. "True." he tossed JD the bra and stretched. "Alright pop, I'm going out tonight but I'll be back before curfew-Oh! Hold on a sec…"

JD kept the strained smile on his face as he followed his dad to the living room; he sort of had no choice. He had been home so sporadically, the actual location in the house slipped his mind. Bud was none the wiser as he went to get a big manila envelope and pulled out two photos with the most excited of smiles.

"Look at this: before and after. Put that in a magazine."

The first picture was a somewhat rundown yet wholly erect structure; the sign hanging from the first floor said it was an animal shelter.

"Yeah, city gave me the okay to knock it down. I mean, you can't make your payments, that's what happens." Bud looked at the second picture with fondness as he held it out for JD to see clearly. "It just came down like a deck of cards, barely had to set much up. I'll let you figure out what I used. Ain't technology great?"

Mel would be kept as far away from Bud as possible.

"That is a feat." JD nodded and handed the photos back. "Hey, is it cool if I hang out at my friend's place tonight?"

"Yeah, sure, sure, just go to school and all that." Bud absently licked his lips and carefully slipped the pictures back into the envelope. "Damn, too bad the camera busted. It'd have make a great home video. Welp, see you tomorrow pop, I've gotta go meet with the boys, got a big project due."

"Drink responsibly." JD said in a mockingly stern tone as Bud went up the stairs to change.

"Yes sir."

JD's eyes went over to the envelope; he didn't bother asking what happened to the animals. Bud wouldn't know or care. Frankly, he didn't care much himself. Chances are those animals were already on their way to being euthanized.

He made the trip back to his room and locked the door with a soft click; it wasn't even five minutes until JD began getting settled that he heard Bud's heavy boots walking down the stairs and out the door. The car started and the sound of tires against gravel was the last thing JD heard before his father was out of sight.

A few days before Mel had left in her half hungover state to go to work despite her 'condition'. JD had driven her there and back, her nails digging in twice as hard as usual for fear of her falling off. JD was sure she'd end up hurling what he had managed to get her to eat off the side of the road or on his jacket, but she only got a slight head rush and felt dizzy. She had immediately turned down his offer to run to the store and make her a bloody Mary, a little hair of the dog cure to help, but Mel swore up and down that was ridiculous.

JD didn't bother to tell her he was 90% certain of the method; they both already could say why he was so used to helping someone get over a hangover. When he was eight he had made his first bloody Mary, extra spicy, and his dad hadn't ever looked prouder, other than when he assembled his first homemade cherry bomb. Sometimes JS wasn't sure if he liked his dad or not. He couldn't even quite seem to decide whether they were alike or different or what their relationship was at times and it was too troublesome to think of for long. That's when the slushies came in.

At any rate, JD didn't want to even think of these things at the time he was aiding Mel; he wanted to keep the focus on how reliable he was in a time of emergency. If Mel wasn't completely deaf and dumb, she'd see how useful he could be. She did work at a bar and it was clear she had a slight alcohol dependency.

But that day JD had dropped her off, there was still plenty of time to kill until he had to go home to keep any suspicions from Big Bud at bay. JD noticed one of the messiest parts of her room was the clothes shoved and crumpled at the floor of her closet. Mel had her own washer and dryer in the nook of her living room; all he had to do was go out and get some detergent. There was less than even a tablespoon in the container. Mel once told him she had used shampoo as a substitute; he had thought she was kidding, but then…

So there JD was tossing in shirts and pants and the like. He hardly looked twice at the panties or camisoles or sheer stockings.

And then he had just barely smelled something at the bottom of the pile; it was a tad musty, like it had been there a while, but there was a hint of primrose, obviously perfume. JD had never even noticed Mel put on any, but then, the scent wasn't unfamiliar either. He had already stripped the pillow of it's case and washed it, so he couldn't tell if there were any similarities, but he was dead sure he had smelled it somewhere else.

It was strange. Mel's style was overall minimal and plain. A spritz of hairspray when she felt up to it, a touch of eyeliner, and a swipe of gloss. Although lately Mel seemed partial to red lipstick, which JD found disturbing. Not that it didn't look hot, but it still looked off. And it didn't smell as sweet as her lip gloss. But from what JD could tell, women typically seemed to change up their styles when they were: A. Bored. B. Wanted to make a guy look twice. One of these results was much more desired than the other.

But then there was the perfume; it was obviously cheap, but it was fragrant, but not enough to make his nose tickle. It was pleasant to think of Mel standing at her mirror, performing her daily routine; JD's mom used to spray perfume in the crook of her neck, using her fingers to spread the fragrance into her skin and then two squirts exactly behind her ears. JD didn't know why she always put it there specifically, but it was interesting to watch. Bud would shoo him out of the bathroom, saying boys didn't need to see how women made themselves up, it might give him funny ideas and he'd grow up to be a flamer. He wasn't quite sure what that was at the time, but whatever it was, Bud didn't seem keen on them.

JD frowned; why did his dad always have to intrude on even his fondest memories? He shook his head to steady his jumbled mind. He had been doing some serious thinking and it was his own fault that he was feeling so conflicted for the time being.

In the first place, he hadn't meant to take the bra. JD was just going to toss it in with the rest of the laundry, really, as much as he was tempted, he was also aware how creepy it was. So JD decided to be the responsible and level headed man he knew Mel wanted.

Before starting the wash, he tied up the kitchen trash and took it to the cans outside; coincidentally, an elderly lady was doing the same. To JD's surprise, she gave him a friendly smile and began chatting with him like they were old friends, asking how his morning was and whether Mel was feeling better, as the woman, who had quickly introduced herself as Dorothy, had seen her leave the house with him.

"Oh, Mel's doing fine now." JD told her casually as he tightly fitted the aluminum lid over the bags of garbage. "Stomach was unsettled, but she got some shut eye and, well, she's a trooper."

"Her schedule is so full, I feel like I hardly see the poor thing." Dorothy clutched her wool cardigan close as a gust of wind blew past. "Do you really think she'll be okay to work? They say an upset stomach can come and go, but if she moves around too suddenly, she might upset it all over again."

JD waved off her concern. "No, no chance. Mel knows when to take it easy; besides, I'm giving her a lift, straight from the 7-Eleven and home again to be safe."

Dorothy smiled and patted her hand lightly over his shoulder. "Well, and they say chivalry is dead. You're a keeper!"

JD wasn't quite sure how to react; had he heard her wrong? "Ah, Mel's done more than enough to help me out."

"You see, that's the problem with these boys and girls nowadays." Dorothy sighed sadly. "It's all about me, me, me. A healthy relationship is built on give and take. When my husband was alive, we were partners in crime to the very end, god bless his soul." her pale eyes drifted to the sky momentarily as though her late husband was indeed listening in; JD had the weirdest urge to follow suit, but then Dorothy was speaking again. "It's just wonderful you're able to make the time to take care of her when she's sick. Look at you, busy as a bee and without even needing to be asked!"

"Mel and me-"

"Oh lord, I'm going to miss my stories!" Dorothy jumped and spun around suddenly. "Sorry to go, tell Mel I said hello!"

JD stared vaguely as Mel's neighbor disappeared into her much tidier looking abode.

From an outsider's perspective, did it look like they were in a relationship? JD supposed to a third party it was the most logical conclusion. A young man coming over at odd hours of the day and staying over some nights. Driving a young woman to work and back, her arms tight on his waist. Him coming and going with his own key. And then there was all the behind doors stuff; the compliments, the fond looks, cooking dinner, nursing her, talking to her while she was feeling bad.

And what Mel had shared with him, it wasn't just the alcohol. She knew, deep down in her heart that JD was the one she could talk to. He could understand. He knew what it felt like all too well to have the only person who was your whole world just up and vanish into nothing more than a bundle of memories and what ifs. They shared the same pain.

They could be good together. If a perfect stranger could see it, how could Mel not?

JD went back inside, locked the door, put in a new garbage bag, pulled the bra out from the top of the mass of dirty clothes, poured in a cup of liquid detergent, and turned the dial for regular setting. JD slowly walked to the bedroom and laid back, his ears picking up on the washing machine tumbling the the load of clothes. Mel wouldn't need him to pick her up for another few hours and it was highly unlikely anyone else would even stop by.

That night JD had wanted to take advantage of her. There was no getting around it, no sugar coating, no pretending he was any better than Kurt Kelly or Ram Sweeney who repeatedly tried and failed to get girls drunk enough, or at least exasperated enough, to go home with them.

But it wasn't the same, even if it was. JD only wanted her. He wanted to take her up in his arms and kiss away the tears and cover her trembling lips and show her everything. JD still wondered if he could have pulled it off; she was drunk and in the pits of sorrow and maybe, just maybe, she would cling to him for comfort. And after they were satisfied and caught their breath, she'd fall asleep in the crook of his arm, hair tickling his chest. In the morning she would know when he was still next to her. She'd know that his reaction to her darkest thoughts and her tears and her spiraling wouldn't drive him off. If anything, he had only made him more desperate because she _knew_.

Mel knew how much life could hurt and yet there she was, drunk as a skunk and broken and weak, but she was still there and she somehow found the energy to give him a piece of her heart, even if it was leagues away from what he really wanted.

But JD knew what would really happened if he forced all those feelings. If Mel didn't hate him, she'd hate herself. She might even think since she was the older of them, it was her responsibility to have turned him away. It might have broken her in so many awful, ugly ways and then everything JD had worked for until that point would be for nothing. He would never be responsible for her tears.

It was one of the reasons JD had been so persistent in caring for Mel in her hungover stupor. Anything to make up for the imagined transgression, anything to show her that, no, he wasn't one of those people, those sick, twisted fucks, or maybe in other ways he was, in the same sick, twisted, broken ways as his mother and father and as the rest of the sick, twisted world.

But even so, JD wanted to be whole and good for her because Mel had somehow managed to hold herself together long enough for that fateful day when she offered him a safe haven and all he could do was hug her and hope words weren't needed. It had been so innocent and now if Mel was so much as in the same room as him, JD could barely stand to keep his hands to his sides or his eyes from roaming.

JD couldn't deny the coiling heat in his stomach that night when Mel reached out her damp hand touched his cheek so tenderly, like he was the vulnerable one. For a second he was sure she would kiss him and if Mel had been the one to initiate the touch, JD honestly had no idea what would have happened from there.

But he had thought he had done good, had truly thought he was on the right path to winning her over, and then the little impulsive voice in his head goaded him as he snatched up the article of clothing that smelled like primroses in a moment of weakness. And all because one stranger had said they looked like they belonged together.

It was a violation of her privacy; if Mel found out about what he did in her bed, on top of the very sheets she had held her dead little brother's headphones and sang his songs and poured her sorrow out in a whiskey glass, she would never look at him the same way.

But for the time being, there was no chance of her finding out.

JD was sweating bullets as his hand went south and his free hand grasped the musky cotton to his nose and rubbed the soft pads on his cheeks.

She didn't have to know. JD just needed this. He just needed this tiny outlet for his release. It was only temporary until he could have it all and by then this incident would be nothing but a mildly embarrassing memory that he might even bring up years into the future. Mel would playfully slap his shoulder, call him a weirdo, but by then it would be old history.

Until then, this would have to suffice, so J. D. swallowed his slight shame and guilt and pushed her likely horrified expression to the back of his mind. It was just a little token, something she'd never miss, just a shred of her to get him by until he had it all.

And he did love her, so, was it really that wrong? It'd be one thing if she was just some tail, a lust object, but Mel was so much more than that. She was the border between salvation and damnation and the difference between his sanity and his worst self.

JD wanted so much more than this. He wanted everything, no matter how much it tore him up to see her in pain, he needed to see it as desperately as he needed to see her smile. JD didn't want anything held back; he was willing to bear his very soul to her in return. In return for belonging to her, she would belong to him. Tit for tat, all the way.

Then the high was gone and reality came crashing down when JD came up with a bullshit story, but Mel had never asked about the bra. It was possible it had been so long since she did laundry properly, she wouldn't remember if one of her many unmentionables was missing. He left the house, made a half comment, half witty remark concerning her red lips, and rode off back to his shitty shit house, bra stuffed inside his duster next to his gun.

Now it had been hastily shoved in the back of his closet. JD didn't know what to do. He could risk slipping it back in her underwear drawer, but what if she noticed? He could just burn it or trash it, but the very idea didn't sit right at all.

"This is a predicament. " JD held the stolen undergarment in his hands and brought it just close enough to let the fading scent waft to him. Soon it would lose her fragrance altogether.

He wanted to tell her. JD wanted to drive to her house tonight, bra in hand, tell her every little thing that had been running through his head, get on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. He wanted to let out that sickness to the only person whose opinion mattered. Mel was the only person who could make it go away. His anger and pain and guilt and then there was the other calmer little voice in his head was wondering whether this was going to work.

JD didn't once think of the homeless animals when his dad showed him the photos. The only thought was how great they were. Just the very motion of how a building came crashing down somehow managed to take his breath away in a way Mel couldn't. It would start off slow and then it progressively got faster and more smoke billowed out the cracks and the shattering concrete and then, it would all come crashing down and that once majestic creation of man was reduced to nothing.

It was so easy to break things. JD never wondered if any other building was built or if the vacant spot would be turned into a park or a cemetery or even a different kind of building. He saw beauty in the broken. But he saw that some ugliness in the world couldn't be changed. He saw some things needed to be destroyed so the beautiful things could take center stage.

Could Mel ever understand that?

JD didn't want to lose himself or that beautiful feeling, but what if Mel didn't like it? What if she knew all the things going on in his head? What if it ruined him in her eyes?

 _"She'll understand. She has to...we share souls. Someday, we'll share everything."_

JD was holding the cloth so tightly it crumpled into a ball in his grip; why was she so hung up over age anyway? That Dorothy lady must have thought he was Mel's age. Mel didn't even look her age, she was the one who could pass for seventeen. Hell, next to him, people would think JD was the one dating a high school girl.

It'd be so easy if they were just a little closer in age; they could be a normal couple. Mel could sit with him at lunch and have the time to talk to him on the phone and run up the bill. He could get her Scorpion tickets to ask her to prom so instead of being stuck with their peers, they could go and have a real dance. They could sneak beer from his dad's cabinet, and after they sobered up, JD would take Mel out on a ride and watch the sunrise and talk about which colleges they were going to apply for.

If only. JD laughed to himself and ran his hands roughly through his hair. "Someone needs to tell her age is just a number…"

All he needed now was a little more time to make it an absolute done deal. Now wasn't the time to self sabotage and have doubts. Things had gotten pretty heavy, but JD was able to reign himself in and get on track.

 _"It'll work out...I won't hurt her if I don't have to. All that icky bad stuff won't mean anything when she sees it. She knows. At least, she will. If anyone can, it's Mel."_ JD stuffed the contraband under his pillow and took some time to breathe. _"We'll be okay. If Mel didn't want you around, she would have told you to hit the road a long time ago, but she didn't. She's trying to fight it and compromise with her feelings, but she can't forever."_

Just another few weeks and it'd be his eighteenth birthday. JD knew just how he was going to spend it.


	12. Young Girl

"Sheila...you know I love anything you'd get me, but I have to ask…" Mel held up the tissue stuffed box to reveal the gift inside. "Why did you and Gary get me a sparkly tiara?"

"Don't you like it?" Sheila said through a mouthful of chocolate cake, rinsing it down with a sip of bourbon. As an afterthought she refilled Mel's empty glass on the bar; normally on a Friday night she would be bustling all over the counter, but the rest of the staff was happy to pick up more of the load so Sheila could serve up the birthday cake and give Mel her present.

"It's pretty."

Mel really didn't want to be ungrateful, but she had absolutely no idea what would possess her surrogate caregivers/employers to give her a more delicate version of a crown. Gary and Sheila were very practical in their gifts. For her twenty first birthday, she got her own set of drink glasses and a bottle of her favorite whiskey. Last year they had saved money to pay for the heater to get fixed before winter came in, as well as couple of new sweaters and snow boots. On her eighteenth birthday, Mel was given the keys to the old house; granted it was partially due to Sheila being unable to contact a serious exorcist to rid the place of what she swore up and down was her mother's ghost, but a house was a house.

Needless to say, Mel had no idea why for her twenty fourth birthday she had been given a tiara; whatever the reason, she was sure it wasn't Gary's idea.

Sheila leaned on the counter with an odd sort of half smile. "You remember how you told us your folks stopped doing birthdays when you were a kid?"

"Yeah." Mel nodded; after her brother died, their parents didn't seem to see much point in celebrating the birth of the child they would have rather been ran over.

"Well, I was thinking how you came to us when you were sixteen. I bet you never had a sweet sixteen then?" Sheila stabbed her cake with a rueful smile. "When I was that age, the thing to do was for the parents to give the birthday girl a tiara, because she was princess for a day…so...well…" her already rouged cheeks turned a brighter shade of red as she reached over to give Mel a warm hug. "It may sound 'lame', but I hope you know me and Gary consider you our princess."

Mel's eyes stung as she held Sheila back; they pulled away with huge identical grins and not for the first time did Mel wish she could have grown up with them as her family. Still, better late than never.

"Thank you."

Sheila dabbed at the corners of her eyes before raising her glass for a toast; Mel clinked her own cup with hers and took a large drink.

"I'm just sorry Gary couldn't get out of work." Sheila sighed.

"Tell him to stop hiring bums."

"The guy seemed okay at first; he'd been out on good behavior after all. Besides, you know him." Sheila smiled. "I'll never understand that man; he's the first to suggest an ass kicking to set someone straight _and_ the first to give them a second chance afterward. Maybe I can be a pushover, but at least I have consistency."

"I know my brother would have loved to meet him. He hated it when I fought, so he'd be glad to know there was someone willing to do it for me instead." Mel said as sipped her whiskey.

"I still feel nervous about having that gun in the house. Lord, I hope he never has an accident." Sheila shook her head.

"I'm sure that won't happen. If you're careful, there's no reason for an accident." Mel shrugged; she never did tell Sheila about her own handgun still unloaded and nestled up in her closet.

"Maybe. I guess it is nice to have if, god forbid, someone does try to break in." Sheila shivered. "You just never know nowadays. By the way, Gary picked out your second gift all on his own."

"Aw, what is it?"

Sheila grinned and took another package from the pocket of her skirt. "He thought it was your style."

Mel took the hair clip in her hand; it's decoration was a pastel pink rose in full bloom.

"The tiara was more for sentimental purposes. This is to keep all that hair out of your face."

"I love it!" Mel began to put it through her hair immediately, pinning it in securely before turning her head for Sheila to get a good look.

"It matches your outfit anyway." Sheila winked; Mel was wearing her uniform, as she insisted on helping with the dinner crowd before taking off. It was fun sharing the cake with the Friday night regulars; besides, it was tradition to have the cake and presents at Sheila's.

"I love it." Mel repeatedly softly as she squeezed the older woman's hand. "And I love you two."

Sheila began to refill her own glass, the cake long gone from her plate. "Aren't we forgetting someone?"

"Hm?" Mel was busy checking how the rose looked in her hair as she surveyed her reflection in her compact mirror.

"What about that boy?"

"Boy?" Mel blinked and gave Sheila her full attention. "What boy?"

"Come on missy, you've been holding back from me, I can tell." Sheila lowered her voice. "Don't play dumb, I want details. God knows it's been a long time coming."

"Sheila, what in the world are you talking about?" Mel put away her mirror alone with the wrapped tiara in her purse. "I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"Are you telling me that absolutely nothing is going on between you and that JD kid?"

Mel looked at her impassively. "Sheila, you said it yourself. He's a kid."

"Oh you know what I mean. To me anyone under thirty is still a kid. And do not give me that look, he is only a few years younger and from what I could tell, a good few years more mature than half the men in this town." Sheila looked around at her patrons with a wry smile. "Make that ten years."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Sweetie, you look younger than him. Lord, he should be the one worrying, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all. But if that's really how you feel, and if I were you, I'd break it to him gently."

Mel looked at Sheila in confusion. "Huh?"

Now Sheila was feeling exasperated. "Mel, I know you didn't finish school, but this is making me depressed."

"Jason is not thinking that way at all." Mel said evenly. "He's glad to have someone looking out for him and a place to go; you're just looking too much into it."

"Are you sure you're only twenty four? 'Cause if that's the case, your eyes are worse than mine." Sheila replied. "Anyone with one eye can see that boy is crazy about you."

"I'm so sure." Mel drawled. "Sheila, you talked to him, for like what, ten minutes?"

Sheila had indeed come over not long before to check in on Mel the day after her hangover, intending to drive her to the 7-Eleven for work. JD was there and they had done the usual introductions, but the two women were out the door in no time and they had only exchanged a few words.

"Sweetie, remember when you tried that fancy whiskey Gary bought you last year during the Christmas party?"

"Sure." Mel could still recall the smoothness and how one sip had been enough to already get a good buzz going.

"And you kept looking like you were in heaven every time you took a drink; honestly, we were a bit worried…" Sheila frowned briefly. "But you can hold your liquor as well as the next person."

"Is there a point to this trip down memory lane?"

"Don't be smart."

"I never am."

Sheila frowned deeply. "Mel, don't talk like that."

"Sorry." Mel smiled and scratched her cheek. "So, what is your point?"

"That boy got the same look in his eyes every time you so much as opened your mouth."

"Oh Sheila, come on."

"He is over the moon. Mel, he may be young but he's not a child; at that age, it's easy to get a crush on an older woman showing you special attention. Hell, just being decently friendly may be enough to make any guy think he's got a shot."

"Jason isn't like that. I've never even heard him talk about girls at all."

"Well, what do you two talk about?"

"Well...books. He reads a lot. He tells me about school sometimes and about bombs. He really knows his explosives. And we joke around a lot." Mel shrugged. "We listen to music, eat, watch TV, casual stuff."

"So, you skipped the awkward first date phase and skipped to being an old married couple?"

Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh my god."

"I'm just saying, if I were you, I'd be really careful about not giving him the wrong idea." Sheila told her soberly. "Especially since you're planning on letting him move in when he's eighteen, right?"

"Yes, but I'm sure Jason won't want to stay forever. He'll probably go off to college and get a job. He can save up money while he stays with me, and then he'll move out, get a job he likes, have a degree, meet a nice girl his own age. He can start over his life the way he wants to and maybe he'll visit now and then." Mel swirled the half melted ice cubes in her glass. "At least I hope so. Jason deserves better than he gets."

Sheila stared at Mel like a hawk; her gaze was focused and her mouth set in a firm line.

"What?"

"You think you're not good enough for him."

Mel felt a tap on her shoulder; she turned around in her bar stool. "Heather?"

Sheila's eyed the teenager curiously. "Sweetie, how old are you?"

Heather Chandler sent her an impatient glare. "Sixteen. Is Mel busy?"

"She's not, but you shouldn't be over by the bar area."

Before Heather could make a remark, Mel was up and taking her by the arm.

"Come on, let's grab a table."

"I didn't come here to eat. I have to talk to you outside." Heather was surveying the room with distaste; the room was practically swaying as partons danced around, bumped into each other, and talked loud enough to make someone deaf. "Now."

"Okay, okay, hold your horses." Mel said as she grabbed her purse. "I'll see you later Sheila, tell Gary I said thanks if he picks you up."

"Sure sweetie, happy birthday." Sheila was looking at Heather warily but decided not to ask questions in front of her.

Mel took her behind the building where they put out trash; for whatever reason, Heather didn't seem to want anyone to overhear them. In fact, aside from roughly yanking her arm from Mel's hand, she had remained utterly silent, her eyes cast down and her hair falling into her face almost messily, at least for her.

"So, what's up?" Mel asked her once they were leaning on the wall; she could smell the garbage aroma wafting from the dumpster next to them. She waited for Heather to comment. Or to say anything. "Heather?"

She raised her eyes finally, her mouth set in a confident sneer instead of a thin frown. "This is the last place I want to be on a Friday night. But you're the only person I know who will keep their mouth shut for the favor I need. If you don't, I tell the cops all about how you planted that pot on those assholes."

Mel stared at her blankly. "So, you came here to blackmail me into doing something for you?"

"You make it sound so ugly." Heather smiled with all the poise of someone who held the upper hand. "But getting thrown in prison for your trouble is an ugly spot to be in. So, do we have a deal?"

Mel smiled and shook her head. "You're a real piece of work."

Heather's smile faltered as Mel began to walk toward the exit door. "Where do you think you're going? You think you have any choice in this? I can ruin your life with one word; who do you think they'll believe, me or you?"

"Tell the cops."

Mel was suddenly glaring at Heather, who stood her ground, albeit now she was feeling a bit unsteady.

"God, I knew you were warped, but this? Is this how you ask favors from people who only ever helped your sorry ass out?"

"I'm not asking. I'm telling you-!"

"Yeah, well then fuck off. No one tells me what to do, especially not some brat." Mel cast her one last scathing look before opening the door, her profile casting a shadow over Heather from the light pouring outside. She guessed J. D. had been right after all.

Heather's hands were shaking fists at her sides. "Don't talk to me like that."

"You make me sick." Mel grit her teeth. "Buzz off."

"You have to help me!"

Mel sighed. "I said, don't tell me what to do-"

"Mel, will you just fucking listen?! I need your help!"

Heather's nails were digging into her palms hard enough to break the skin but not draw blood; before she could stop herself, she fell to the ground, knees knocking into the freezing pavement, but she could hardly feel it. She wanted nothing more than to just melt into the ground and disappear.

Heather wanted to slap Mel right across the face. She wanted to throttle her and scream and make her regret she ever spoke to her in such a vulgar, cold way. Heather didn't care why or who, no one would ever get away with treating her like that.

Mel wouldn't get away with forcing her to this state.

"You're the only one I can go to, okay?! God, why are you making me do this, are you a fucking sadist?"

"Heather-"

"You know what? Go to hell!" Heather found a piece of broken brick and tossed it in Mel's direction, but all it did was bounce off the wall by her arm. She tried one more time with a smaller chunk as she saw Mel walk back to her, but all she could manage was to make it hit the top of her shoe. "Go away!"

"Heather, why didn't you just ask?"

"I did ask, you stupid cow!"

"No." Mel said forcefully. "I mean, actually ask me. Not threaten me. What is this even all about?"

Heather looked up at her through bleary eyes; her stubborn frown wavered as she tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling and the hot tears from falling.

"Don't look at me."

Mel knelt down in front of her as Heather kept her head bowed and she gripped her own arms; she just gazed at the top of her head. She was at a complete loss.

"I don't want you to see me like this, so just go, go and leave me alone. I don't care."

Heather wanted to gouge out her own eyes as she felt the tears slip out, no matter how tight she clenched them shut.

 _"I hate this...I hate her. Why can't she just do what everyone else does? Why can't she just not make everything so difficult?!"_

She never should have come, but she didn't have much choice.

And maybe part of her wanted to.

"What's wrong?"

"You don't care." Heather shot back.

"Excuse me for not taking kindly to getting blackmailed." Mel retorted; she took a deep breath to calm down. "I want to help you, but you need to let me. No threats, no bullshit. Just ask. Is it that hard?"

"Yes."

"Okay...well, can you at least tell me what you need me to do?"

Heather mumbled.

"Huh?"

"I...I said…"

Mel frowned. "Sweetie, I don't speak deaf language. You have to speak up-"

"What the hell does it matter? If you're not going to help me, it's over!" Heather laughed hysterically and threw up her hands. "My reputation is dead as disco; I'll never be able to show my face, everyone is going to think I'm a slut, and of course Kurt won't get any shit for it, I'm the one who's going to get fucking stretch marks-oh my god." Heather gasped and put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my god, my body will be _ruined!_ "

"Okay, you are really bugging out."

"Are you retarded?! Dammit." Heather put her hands in her blotchy face. "Goddammit, I'm doing it again. Why am I doing this, why am I even here? You're not going to help me, I can't do this, I'm ruined, I'm-"

Heather felt Mel's arms grip her shoulders; her eyes went to her calm face. The hands stopped the world from awaying and held her steady.

"Heather, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about. You need to tell me everything." Mel told her gently, but firmly. "Okay?"

"I'm royally fucked. I'm more screwed than a-a, a thing! I don't fucking know!"

Mel blinked. "Okay, maybe you're still a bit out of it." she leaned in and sniffed lightly. "Are you drunk?"

"And you know what? They're all going to turn on me. That's what happens when you have power; not just anyone can handle it you know, you have to get them before they can get you, the lying, two faced phony ass wipes...it's a fucking shark pit, that's what it is, and a fuck up like this is like jumping in covered in chum."

Mel frowned. "It...it doesn't sound like those are good friends to me."

"Well, I'm not their friend. So why not? You saw me in action, you think I'm a mythic bitch too, right?" Heather glared accusingly. "I deserve what I'm going to get?"

"I never said that."

"But you're thinking it."

Mel sighed heavily. "Look, here's the thing. Friendship is give and take. All you little bastards seem to do is use each other. So no, I'm guessing whatever trouble you're in is bad enough that if anyone at school still hung out with you, they'd give them shit. Like you would."

Heather hung her head. "So what?"

"I know what kind of person you are Heather. I don't know all the details, but I have a good idea. I did go to high school. Times change, but some stuff doesn't, at least from what I've heard...in fact, the way you describe it sounds exactly like how this other kid did. And I'm not going to let you treat me like shit because of your high school drama. But if you really need my help, I'll do what I can."

"Why?"

"What?"  
"You know if you help me, I'll just go back to school and it'll be like nothing ever happened. I won't get what I deserve." Heather spat bitterly.

"It's not about that. I wouldn't feel right letting you get in trouble." Mel told her. "But you need to trust me. You came here because you thought I'd keep quiet right? So what is it? I'm getting antsy here, what's the big trouble?"

Heather hiccuped and Mel was hit with a blast of rum. "You're still wearing the lipstick."

"...you're really not all there right now, are you sweetie?"

Heather's reputation, her position, her whole life was about to be turned upside down and the only thing keeping her even close to grounded or sane was the hands holding her and Mel's steady voice. Mel was the only one.

"It really does look good on you."

"Thanks. See, even you can be nice sometimes...though you are wasted right now..." Mel smiled tiredly as she tried to think of a way to get Heather to focus. "How about we go inside and get you some water or-?"

"You need a touch up."

Mel was almost positively certain that Heather pressing her red lips to hers was not in fact going to fix up her own fading lipstick, but at the moment her whole brain was too busy being on the fritz to get into the logistics of makeup application via another person's mouth.

Heather pulled back and smiled goofily. "You look soooo dumb right now. So, can you go inside the store and get me a pregnancy test so I don't have to and assholes won't see me?"

Mel stared off into space as she helped Heather to her feet. "Sure. Let's get you some water first though while I get a shot." she ran a hand over her face and tried not to slap it in disbelief; she really needed to wipe her mouth. "Talk about your birthday surprises…"


	13. Talk to Me Now I'm Older

**Author's Note: Not a song from the 80's or before then, but see if you can spot the song reference. Enjoy!**

"So that's the guy? Dumb looking blonde with a letterman jacket?"

Mel pointed out the window of Heather's family car; she had made sure she told her driver to roll up the window dividing the space between the front and back of the car for privacy. Heather herself was lying down listlessly in the passenger seat, her coat draped over her like a blanket.

"Yeah. Mel, why are you-?"

"If I've gotta go in and buy this thing, and I am getting the most expensive one for accuracy, he's gonna pay for it. It's the least he can do for putting you through this." Mel looked down at her. "And try to remember the pull out method is bullshit next time."

Heather's bleary eyes popped open. "Wait, you can't tell him-!"

"Hey, lay back, you'll make yourself sick." Mel gently pushed Heather down on the plush seat that was actually big enough for five people; Heather's driver was under the impression Mel was a school friend helping Heather through a stomach ache and a migraine. Maybe he did suspect alcohol was involved, but then, he likely didn't want to be the one to tell the Chandlers their underage daughter had been drinking while they were out on their trip.

"You dummy, you can't tell that jackass, he'll tell everyone." Heather slurred and slapped Mel's arm weakly. "You dumb….stupid."

"I'm just going to tell him you're sick and need medicine." Mel smiled. "If he's as dense as he seems, he'll buy it."

"Fine. Whatever. And buy me some beer."

"I think I'll not do that instead." Mel replied; she tapped the driver's window and he rolled it down. "Sir, would you mind pulling into the parking lot in the back? I don't want these kids teasing Heather for being sick. Teenagers, they'll make fun of anything, you know?"

"I thought you were in high school?"

"And that's why I know exactly how we work."

Once they were parked and Heather was dozing peacefully in the car, Mel walked around the convenience store to the front entrance. Kurt, Ram and what looked like a couple of other football players were trading stories of kegger incidents and roughhousing. Mel shivered in the chilly night air and tried to look not suspicious in any way; she wished she had time to get a coat at least, but Heather was panicked at the idea of waiting any longer to get the test.

"Oh hey there." Ram intercepted her and nudged Kurt in the side. "Dude, it's that hot 7-Eleven lady."

"Yeah, lady, as in too old for you." Mel raised an eyebrow; was she not supposed to hear that remark? "Look, I'm gonna cut to the chase and make this simple for you. Heather Chandler caught a cold from you and she needs medicine."

"So?"

"So, since you got her sick, she thinks it's fair you pay for the meds."

Kurt frowned and looked around Mel as though he expected someone else was there. "Where is Heather?"

"She doesn't feel good, so she asked me to bring the medicine to her." Mel explained simply.

Kurt's brow furrowed deeply in thought. "But...I'm not sick. At least I don't think so."

"It is flu season." Mel shrugged. "You might have only had a the virus in your system and it got passed along to her instead."

"Did you sneeze in her mouth?" Ram asked him.

"No dude, gross." Kurt scratched his hair and shrugged. "So...you didn't come here to hang out?"

"Nope. I'm on an errand."

"Sucks." Ram frowned. "Hey, what about after you give Heather medicine?"

"Oh my god-how old are you two even?"

"Old enough to show you a good time."

Mel noticed both of them clutching cans covered in brown paper bags. "Personal preferences aside, I'm pretty sure you two are too young for me in a bunch of states, not to mention you're definitely too young legally in Ohio to be drinking those beers."

"We're eighteen." Ram crossed his arms and him and Kurt shared a nod.

"Yeah, that's under the legal age limit."

"Well, maybe we take issue with living in a country that allows us to sign up for war but not drink a beer and bang hot older ladies in certain states."

"Yeah, we're taking a stand."

Mel pinched the bridge of her nose. "Will you just give me the money so I can buy the medicine already?"

"Fine, here." Kurt fished a crumpled ten from his jean pocket before slapping it in Mel's waiting palm.

"Thank you. Try not to get alcohol poisoning, huh kid?"

Mel shook her head and rubbed her arms that were becoming covered in goosebumps; usually she might be more worried about two mentally immature and reckless kids drinking, but right now she was freezing and Heather was probably in much more immediate turmoil at the moment. She tried not to think of what a child of theirs might turn out like.

"Guys, come on, we're gonna be late for the bonfire!" One of the guys had already gotten into his car and was banging on the side of the door to get Kurt and Ram's attention.

"Hold on!" Kurt slipped his jacket off his shoulders and held it out. "Here, have Heather give it back to me later. Or you know, when she doesn't look gross and sick."

Mel stared at him wryly. "I'll pass. FYI, women aren't going to sleep with you or your buddy for lending them a jacket."

"Really?" Ram asked; he actually did look taken aback.

"Really."

"You sure?" Kurt inquired with what Mel supposed was meant to be suave charm.

"Positive."

"Oh. That sucks." Kurt told her soberly. "Well, you look cold anyway." he tossed the jacket over Mel's head with a juvenile sort of chuckle as he and Ram bumped fists in unison as though he had just pulled off the world's cleverest prank.

"Thanks I guess." Mel took the jacket off her head; it smelled like men's deodorant and faintly of cigarettes. _"Wow...he is a pig, but maybe there's hope for him yet."_

Kurt turned back just before he got into his friend's car. "Hey, how about in a couple months? I'll totally be older."

Mel shook her head. "No."

"A year?"

"No!"

Kurt shrugged. "Fine, smell you later."

Mel really did smack herself in the face as she walked into the store. _"Oh for fucks sake...why the hell did she sleep with him in the first place? At least this coat is warm. Wait, is that a sweat stain? Ew."_

Heather was passed out cold when Mel got back to the car, bag in hand and admittedly comfortable coat zipped up to her neck.

"What the…?" Mel reached down between the seats; an empty mini bottle of rum was tucked in the cushions. _"Goddammit, these kids are fucking retarded."_

"Where to Miss?" the driver didn't seem perturbed in the slightest; perhaps he just didn't care anymore.

"Okay...go to 1251 Ash street. Heather was planning on staying over the night."

"Certainly."

Mel sat back and put Heather's head in her lap to prop it up; if she vomited in her sleep, she might choke to death. "Uh sir? Should her parents know she's coming over or-?"

"It's fine Miss." the driver glanced at her briefly through the mirror with a grim sort of smile. "It would be a long time before we could reach them at any rate. Besides, you seem responsible...for your age."

Mel smiled sheepishly and settled back in the seat.

It was lucky that Heather was so light, or it would have been extremely difficult to carry her to the porch and unlock the door while also carrying the shopping bag. The clerk in the convenience store barely blinked when he rang up the test. It never stopped amazing her how oddly desensitized the people of Sherwood could be in certain circumstances.

 _"I just don't understand it. It's like I'm seeing more and more of this place lately...and I can't say it's pleasant..."_

Mel sighed as she laid Heather down on her bed and read over the pregnancy test instructions; the jacket was draped carelessly over the foot of the bed. She felt confused; Heather seemed to actually trust her. And the boy who might have knocked her up had done something kind for a woman without pushing for sex.  
 _"Not that he'd turn it down."_ Mel reminded herself with an eye roll. " _But still...what's wrong with these kids? They might actually have the potential to be decent people, but they've trapped themselves in this teenage hierarchy bullshit."_

If pressed, Mel would say she believed the results were due to a few factors; neglectful parents, typical teenage hormones and recklessness, an environments that rewarded their subsequent behavior when they immersed themselves into the roles they were expected to play.

 _"Jason's wrong...it's not the Heathers that are toxic. It's more than that. It's this whole place…"_ Mel frowned and sat down heavily next to Heather. _"But nothing will change unless they want it to….well, let's focus on one disaster at a time."_

She gently shook Heather's shoulder and was treated to a light slap on the cheek for her trouble.

"Stop fucking shaking me, I have a headache."

"Yeah, who's fault is that?" Mel rubbed the slight red mark and shoved the test in Heather's limp hand. "You just have to pee on the tab and then you lay it down flat for twenty seconds. If it's a plus sign, you have a bun in the oven. If it's a negative sign, you don't."

Heather rubbed her forehead and looked at the test blankly. "Alright."

What only took maybe three minutes felt like a lifetime; when Heather came back out of the cramped bathroom, her expression was vacant and tears were threatening to overflow. The pit in Mel's stomach became a huge knot.

"Oh my god…"

Heather handed her the test. Negative.

Mel put a hand to her mouth and sighed. "Oh my god, don't scare me like that! Jesus, you look like you saw a ghost...you didn't right? Did you see an old lady?"

Heather's eyes flickered to life. " A what?"

"Eh, long story." Mel took the test to the trash, tossing it in with relief. "How do you feel?"

Heather ran fingers through her tangled hair. "I need a drink."

"I can get you some hot cider." Mel went to the refrigerator and took out a jug. "Just let me heat it up on the stove. Are you hungry? I can order take out."

"I wouldn't have kept it."

Mel stopped what she was doing and put down the cider. "You mean you'd abort the baby?"

Heather looked her point blank in the eyes. "What if I do?"

"It's up to you. I doubt that Kurt kid or you are ready to be parents. Not to mention with how much you've been getting wasted and how long the baby was inside, you might have done some serious damage. At any rate, it's your decision."

Heather leaned back on the counter; she had changed out of her wrinkled and booze smelling clothes and borrowed one of Mel's sweaters. "So?"

"So what?"

"Nothing." Heather said abruptly. "Give me some cider."

"It's non alcoholic you know."

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"Hardly. By the way, that kid let me borrow his jacket; give it back to him for me, will you?"

Heather looked at her in disgust. "Tell me you didn't say you'd sleep with him?"

"Are you fucking high? No way." Mel blanched.

"Why'd he give you the jacket?"

Mel shrugged and waited for the cider to begin simmering in the pan. "He saw I was cold."

Heather laughed cynically. "Wow, what a gentleman."

"Hey, you're the one who slept with the guy." Mel reminded her. "I mean, no judgments, but he doesn't really seem like your type."

"Just because I kissed you, doesn't mean I'm some dyke."

Mel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "That wasn't what I meant, but now that you mention it, that's not how you apply makeup."

"I was drunk." Heather examined her nails.

"I know. So, why Kurt?" Mel changed the subject to avoid her wrath.

"He's on the team. He's the star, him and Ram. And I was bored. Who else would I go to?"

"I guess it's better than that one asshole." Mel remembered the creep from the bar who must have been about as old as her at least. "If you want to mess around, I'd at least do it with a guy you wouldn't feel ashamed of later."

"What do you know?" Heather huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I bet the only guys you hook up with are losers from that bar."

Mel laughed. "I've never done anything actually."

Heather actually looked confused. "Come again?"

"I've never done it with anyone." Mel said as she began pouring the steaming cider in a chipped mug; she handed it to Heather, who was still staring at her like she was a creature from another planet. "What?"

"You're a virgin?"

"Yeah."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious." Mel said.

"What about third base?"

"No?"

"Second?"

"Nope."

Heather put down her cup hard and her mouth was hanging down in disbelief. "Have you actually kissed anyone before?"

"No." Mel admitted. "I dated a few guys when I moved here, but...well, there just wasn't any spark. I mean, maybe if Axl Rose was on the market…"

"Was I your first kiss?"

Mel was taken off guard. "I guess technically."

"Wow." Heather was grinning wickedly. "A twenty something year old virgin. You're shitting me. Do you even have a life?"

Mel frowned and put a hand on her hip. "What's your problem with me? One minute you're begging me for help and now you're treating me like shit."

"So? It's not like we're friends or anything. This was a one time thing. I needed your help and I'll be out of your hair once my clothes are dry."

"That's funny, because an hour ago you were blubbering and going on about how none of your friends gave a shit about you and how you deserved it. I might be wrong, but you sounded pretty damn unhappy about it." Mel said lightly. "That's not even mentioning how you were practically clinging to me most of the ride from the bar."

"I was not!" Heather denied vehemently. "Someone like you wouldn't get it; you're a nobody. Not that it's any of your business."

"Yeah, but you just spent the night making it my business. One second you're acting like a decent person and the next you're pushing me away, and don't say it's not intentional. If you want to avoid making nice with people, fine. But if you end up miserable for it, then just keep in mind you chose "power" over that." Mel retorted as she sipped calmly at her own drink that she had spiked with vodka; Heather glared. "Hey, I'm of age. It's my birthday anyway."

Heather huffed and tried to flip her hair over her shoulder, but only managed to get it more tangled. Mel sighed and put down her cup on the counter.

"Sit on the couch. I'll help fix you up; keep drinking that stuff, it'll settle your stomach."

Heather complied reluctantly, back and shoulders stiff as Mel went off to fetch a brush; she took a large swig of her cider and wished desperately for something to stave off sobriety. She needed it now more than ever.

"So, do you like me?" Mel asked as she sat behind Heather and began taking the bottom strands of her hair in her hand. "I mean, I can't imagine why a "popular" girl would turn to someone she thinks is a loser."

"You're not completely annoying." Heather gripped the mug so hard she'd thought it'd burst. " _So what, she's just going to ignore earlier? Well duh, I was drunk. She probably thinks I wasn't thinking straight. So to speak."_

Which was true; in her panic and desperation and drunken haze, the temptation of Mel sitting barely a few inches from her face had been too much.

"You know, you're sort of dumb...but you're not stupid."

"Thanks sweetie. You know, for someone so much smarter, you make a lot of bad decisions. Of course, you're also sixteen so…" Mel trailed off as she took her time untangling the blonde knots. "Heather, be honest. I can't have been the only person to go to. I mean, if you really wanted to, why not have your driver take you out of town to get the test? Or go to that women's clinic, they could have given you a free one; anything that happens there is confidential."

"I didn't know who else to go to."

"But-"

"I knew you wouldn't...look at me differently. You wouldn't hold it against me. You give me shit for plenty other crap." Heather sent her a look from the corner of her eyes. "But...I guess it's for good reasons. Still, if I started acting like you, I'd kill myself."

"Am I that boring?"

"You missed your whole party and spent the night helping me and...all I've done is...get mad…" Heather sounded like it was achingly painful to say these words out loud. But then, for someone like her, it probably was. "You're not getting anything out of this."

"I don't want anything."

"You're being a pushover. You need to grow some balls and stop taking my shit."

Mel paused. "I don't feel that way at all."

"Sure."

"I mean it, Heather. If anything, you seem to be hurting yourself as much as you hurt anyone else."

"I'm doing just fine."

 _"If you say so."_ Mel continued to brush Heather's hair despite the tangles being combed out; Heather didn't say anything of it.

"If you're holding out for someone special to fuck, you won't find them here. Personally, I'd rather not go through life as a nun."

"If you can live with it. Personally, I'll stick to my toys for now."

Heather coughed and a spittle of cider made it's way down her chin and onto Mel's sweater.

"What, that's too vulgar for you?" Mel asked in disbelief.

"D-don't look down on me like I'm some slut for having sex!" Heather spat as she struggled to clear her throat.

"I never said that. And anyway, that's pretty hypocritical seeing as how you just got done laughing at me for being a virgin."

"Whatever. Anyway, maybe you need to find someone who won't let you be such a pushover."

"And you should find someone who will call you out on your bullshit." Mel retorted. "Or at least someone who actually likes you for another reason other than being beautiful."

Heather didn't have a come back; her slowly sobering brain was buzzing.

 _"So, she thinks I'm beautiful…? I mean, of course she does. Everyone does. She'd be blind if she didn't. Why do we always end up talking about this kind of shit? But what else can we talk about?"_ Heather frowned and stared down at her cup, trying to think clearly. _"And why do we need to have a topic to talk about?"_

"Where's your bobby pins?"

"Huh?"

Mel was searching through her mane; the back of her neck tingled. "I thought you had bobby pins."

"Right...I guess they fell out." Heather told her as she turned around to face Mel as the dryer beeped. "I think my clothes are done."

"Hold on," Mel unclipped the rose in her hair and took the chunks of locks that were falling in Heather's face. With a satisfied nod, she managed to tuck them back behind securely. "There, you can borrow this for now." Mel took the empty mug and went to the laundry closet. "You can use my phone if you're ready to call your driver."

Heather wordlessly nodded and took her now spotless clothes from the dryer to change in Mel's room. With a nasty grimace, she folded up Kurt's jacket to take back as promised; maybe she'd just have a little accident with it. Something that involved fire. Or a wood chipper.

 _"That's it. Fuck it. No more pussyfooting around."_

"What's your phone number?"

Mel cocked her head to the side; she had just finished rinsing their cups. "Mine?"

"I'm taking you out to dinner tomorrow night and I need to have a way to contact you."

"Heather," Mel sighed and dried off her hands with an old dish towel. "I already told you, you don't owe me anything-"

"You need to get out more. And I don't mean to that dive bar, I mean to an actual restaurant, some place with atmosphere and clean floors." Heather finished as she checked her hair in her little mirror; she was all set and ready, looking as though nothing had ever happened. "I'm going to introduce you to a little culture. Maybe then you'll see the appeal of actually having a social life."

Mel crossed her arms with a challenging smile. "Aren't you just sweet? Okay then, but if you're paying, I want steak."

"Fine." Heather said simply; she heard a honk outside in the street. "That'll be...whatever his name is."

"Geez, you don't even know your own driver's name?"

"I usually drive myself." Heather said as if it was the most obvious thing. "And do me a favor? Wear something that isn't covered in grease stains or has holes?"

"Yeah, yeah." Mel wondered if maybe she would regret accepting Heather's gesture; and then her guest did a peculiar thing.

"Make sure you do." Heather put her hands on Mel's shoulders and reached up to plant a brief peck on her cheek. "And if you say anything to anyone about the test, I will kill you and use your blood to dye my scrunchie."

Mel wasn't sure what to do as Heather walked with confidence out the front door without so much as a look back.

On one hand, Heather was back to her old self.

On the other hand...Heather was back to her old self.

 _"Oh boy…"_ Mel scratched at her cheek and sighed. _"Dear lord, please don't let me regret helping out this kid."_

It was funny though. So far every teenager she came across seemed to have some sort of unchecked, borderline self destructive issue. The Heathers were toxic; god only knew what Heather Duke and Heather McNamara had going on to make them stay in line with someone so unbalanced and mixed up herself. Ram and Kurt were more typical, but even so, Mel wondered if they'd grow up as boorish and narrow minded and sex crazed as they were now; the men in town weren't the best role models on how to treat a lady, Gary being the exception. For not the first time, Mel was lucky to have escaped high school unscathed and relatively anonymous, aside from her reputation as someone not to pick a fight with.

And J. D. was another case altogether; Mel could only gather so much from him, but it seemed he had an unnaturally cynical take on the whole world, particularly his equally lost peers. It was more sad than anything else.

 _"If Jason were here, he'd want me to kick her out...but...maybe Heather grew up a little tonight..."_

Mel was grateful J. D. hadn't made an appearance at all that night; the last thing she needed was a squabble on her hands.

"What a night…"

"Evening m'lady."

Mel jumped a foot in the air as JD swept into the kitchen; she hadn't even heard him come in. He smirked and shed his jacket, draping it over the chair before leaning on the exact same space Heather had not half an hour ago. He was holding something behind his back, making sure to keep it from her field of vision as she moved to peer over at it.

"What's up? You-" JD's mouth was parted but no other words came out.

"Sorry Jason, I was spaced out." Mel chuckled and went over to take his coat and hang it in the closet. "And don't leave your stuff out. You're the one who told me I should try to keep this place tidier."

JD made no reply; Mel frowned and looked into his blank eyes with concern.

"Jason? What's wrong?"

With a vaguely strained smile, JD tapped his right cheek; Mel slowly reached up to touch her own.

When she pulled her fingers away, they were smeared with red lipstick.


	14. Love's a Slippery Slope

**Author's Note: So, fun fact, today (Mel's birthday) is World Mental Health Day. Something both her suitors lack unfortunately. Also, see if you can find the movie reference.**

JD was seeing red. Literally.

"Oh. Look at that." Mel took a tissue from the box placed in the middle of the dining room table; JD watched with the same plastered on smile as she searched through her purse and took out her little mirror to make sure she was properly wiping off the kiss mark.

"Sounds like you had a crazy night." JD commented lightly. "Did someone at the bar get a bit too drunk?"

"No." Mel said casually as she finished cleaning off her face. "It's a funny story actually. I ran into Heather on my way home from Sheila's."

"You ran into Heather Chandler? In this neighborhood?"

Mel bit her lip; why should she lie? It wasn't a big deal. She wasn't sure JD would buy anything less than the truth. "She came to see me."

"What for?" JD was fighting to keep the accusatory tone from his voice as he continued to keep a cool head.

"Well, it's sort of private." Mel confessed as she grabbed a seat at the table. "What's behind your back?"

JD pulled the surprise from his back. "Thought I'd pick you up a little birthday present."

Mel blinked as he tossed the bouquet of pink roses on the table. "Oh, thank you." she smiled warmly. "I'm surprised these were in season."

"Did you have fun together?"

Mel steeled herself. "Jason, I'm feeling like you'd be upset if I said yes."

"No. Just disappointed. I thought you would know better than to get involved with one of the resident harpies." JD said, moving with a casual gait as he sat down next to her. "And let me take a wild guess and say you actually invited her inside."

"Yes."

"What for?"

"I told you, that's not for me to say."

"Keeping secrets from me now? Damn Mel, I'm hurt." JD chuckled bitterly as he began patting his back pocket looking for a cigarette. "You got a light?"

"Jason, she needed my help. I know you don't think much of her, but-"

"She's started rumors about other kids that would make your ears bleed. That stone cold bitch has the whole school terrorized and she'll fuck you over the first chance she gets." JD continued with a mocking smirk. "Did she tell you any of that while she was playing the victim? And you let her in the house-"

"Okay, let's get something straight."

JD's smile fell as Mel stood up and loomed over him with a cold glower.

"This is my house. I pay the bills. You don't get to tell me who I can't have over. And yeah, I know she's a bitch. I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say that." JD told her evenly. "I'm saying, you must realize she's not worth helping."

"She's a teenage girl who didn't have anyone else to go to," Mel continued sternly. "And she knows why. You can hate her all you want, but I'm the adult and I'm going to act like it. And, for your information, she invited me out to grab something to eat tomorrow night just to say thank you for my help."

"And you're actually going to go?"

"Yes I am."

JD wanted to snap the roses in half and use the thorns to gouge out Heather Chandler's eyes.

"A lot of fun that'll be. In the first place, you really shouldn't help assholes get back on their feet." he said ominously, voice shaking as he tried to hold back.

"Don't fucking tell me what I should and shouldn't do."

JD almost shrank back as she smacked the table. "I'm just trying to look out for you Mel. That Heather is bad news. Everyone knows it. If she said or did anything to make you feel bad for her, it was planned. Heather Chandler is someone who needs to be stopped; if she was having trouble, than I'd say karma's a bitch."

"I don't care if she was the Wicked Witch of the West, I'm not just going to ignore someone who needs my help!"

JD stared at her with a look of disbelief. "Are you that naive?"

"You know what? Call it whatever you like." Mel turned away from him. "I've had a long fucking night. I'm going to get ready to sleep. Do what you want."

"Hey, hold on a sec. Mel, don't be like that." JD called after her, but she just went straight to her bedroom and closed the door. "Shit."

JD followed her and came to the shut door with a sigh. "Mel, come on."

"Jason, don't come in."

"Mel, just listen to me, I didn't mean to piss you off." JD opened the door; he was ready to apologize even if he didn't quite mean it.

"Jason!"

Mel was halfway out of her uniform, her hands gripping the top back up to her chest as she stared at him with panicked eyes. JD was frozen to the spot.

"Dammit, I told you not to come in!"

"Sorry."

JD slammed the door shut and buried his hands in his hair, trying to control his temper and his breathing; another second and he might have jumped her and he wasn't sure if he wanted to slap some sense into her or force his tongue down her mouth until she couldn't speak Heather's name again. It was bad enough seeing the kiss mark. It was sickening to think of. Had the bitch been in Mel's room? What was so damn private?

Why was it so fucking important? Who cares about keeping a promise to the most untrustworthy person in Westerberg?

Why was Mel so ready to protect the one person who was a menace to everyone around her?

"Jason, stay out there while I change. We'll talk in a minute." Mel called out in exasperation as she pulled over a sweater that went to her knees; she sighed and brushed out her hair at the dresser. She was exhausted, but she also didn't want to go to bed mad.

"Jason?" Mel opened the door; down the hall she could see JD slumped over on the couch, one hand gripping his arm. The roses were lying despondent on the coffee table. She felt a stab of guilt as she sat down next to him.

"Jason, I know you're just trying to help. But that's the thing." Mel said firmly yet gently. "I don't need your help. I'm an adult. I'm not someone Heather could exploit even if she wanted to. And I'm not trying to be mean, but who I decide to hang around with isn't any of your business." she grimaced. "I mean, unless I decide to let a crackhead or a murderer live here, but you get what I mean."

"She'll just hurt you Mel. I told you, she's nothing like you. She doesn't care about anyone as long as she gets her way." JD said lowly, his hand rubbing up and down the inside of his arm. "Everyone's like that. You should be more careful or they'll take advantage of you."

JD looked up; Mel was laughing softly. "What's so funny?"

"She told me the exact same thing."

JD glared down at the ground. "I'm not like her. I'd never hurt you Mel."

"Not everyone is out to get someone. People like Heather aren't the rule, they're the exception. And that being said, people can change."

"I'm sorry I came by so late. My dad was really messed up tonight."

Mel frowned at the change in topic. "It's okay. I told you you could come by whenever."

"I know. But it's your birthday and I just made you upset." JD chuckled self deprecatingly as he scratched at his wrist. "I knew roses wouldn't make up for it, but I thought of you when I saw them, so…happy birthday."

"Thank you. I really do like them." Mel's tentative smile fell immediately when her gaze swept over JD's arm. "Jason…."

JD blinked and looked back and forth to where her eyes were staring. "Oh. Sorry. Most of these are older than they look."

Mel tried to remain unphased but she couldn't help gasp at the brightest red cut; it was just beginning to scab over. "Jason, when…? Did you...I mean, did you do that today?"

"I wanted to come by and see you this morning, but I had school. A few jocks ganged up on me to be dicks and then my dad was being a drunk asshole...guess it was stupid of me to do, but I didn't have a slushie on hand, so…"

"Why didn't you call me?!"

"I didn't want to bug you. Thought you'd be out with friends." JD said softly, making sure to keep the hint of resentment hidden. "I was going to wait until tomorrow to come by, 'cause I thought you should get a break from putting up with me, but-"

"You can come here whenever you want. Don't ever think you're a bother dammit." Mel leaned over to pull him in a tight bear hug; he felt her tears on his shirt. "God, I wish you would have called me. Jason, I don't care what time or what day, you get out of there, you get a hold of me if you feel like you're going to-to do this….I'm sorry. I had no idea…" she gulped and tried to calm down herself, tried to keep it together for him. No matter how awful things became, she never once contemplated self harm.

JD's arms came up to hug her back. "I'm sorry for earlier. You're the only one who even gives a damn if I did this. I just want you to be safe. You always think about other people...I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not! Don't ever think that, I mean it. If you do, you're cut off from slushies, I swear." Mel held him tighter as she internally cursed his father, the high school, the whole town. How could such awful things be happening to these kids and no one even bothered to lift a finger to step in?

JD was smiling wickedly; he could see the cleaned kitchen knife placed back carefully in the wooden block from where he was sitting. It was true, it had been years since JD had experimented with ways to dull the pain, but he knew to get Mel back on his side, he needed to use drastic measures. He knew she would forgive him; he was still internally kicking himself for nearly undoing all the progress he had been making.

 _"I shouldn't have jumped on her like that. Mel can't help it if Heather has her fooled. She doesn't know any better. Look at what she did for me? She's lucky I'm not someone who would take advantage of her."_ JD was trying so hard not to burst into laughter; Mel's warm embrace and the view he was getting of her bare legs more than made up for the stinging of his wrist.

It was Mel's genuine kindness that drew him in after all; he almost felt amazed that someone could actually find it in their heart to feel empathy for Heather Chandler. Not sympathy; she was pitiful, but Mel actually cared. She truly saw something good, it was at least not worth her disdain in one of the worst people JD had the displeasure to meet.

In truth, he loved her for it. And that worried him.

"I love you, Jason."

JD felt his eyes snap open and his mouth dry up.

"I mean it. Believe me, I care so much about you. Please don't do this again. You have to come to me if you're feeling this way. I didn't think..." Mel chuckled and patted his head. "I can give you someplace to stay until you're able to find somewhere of your own. I can listen. But that's really all I can do. Well, we both know how dumb I am."

"You're not dumb Mel. You see people for who they are...who they can be."

Maybe, just maybe, Heather Chandler wasn't a lost cause. If Mel could reach him, maybe she could make Heather take a step back and see the bigger picture like he had.

But maybe JD didn't want to admit that.

"At least one good thing came out of me moving again." JD told her wryly; he prayed she would keep holding him for another few minutes, but then she was pulling back and the warmth he felt was zapped away.

"I'd prefer it if your dad got his act together and treated you like a son. That's what parents should do. They should be there for their kids to go home to...not make it impossible to survive." Mel wasn't often bitter, but when she was, JD could always tell.

But it worked for him. Her bitterness, her anger was welcome if it was on his behalf.

It was petty, but it was also for her benefit. Heather simply didn't know how to be with someone like Mel. JD was completely different; he was taking and giving. He had something to gain and something to provide.

"Mel, you really meant what you said?" JD asked, his eyes cast down; he wanted to look as nonthreatening as possible. "You don't have to say that; I won't off myself because I'm lonely. It was just a slip."

Mel shook her head with a sad sort of smile. "Jason, I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it."

Mel pulled JD into another hug; it had been years since she had to reassure anyone like this. Mel could only somewhat recall her little brother sulking on their porch, his headphones gone; a bully had taken them and Mel had made sure to get them back, but in the meantime, Jason had needed someone. Her parents would only tell him to man up and stop pouting, so he never did go to them. Whenever he felt sad or frustrated, it was Mel who he would ask for hugs, even to the day he died. It was her who wiped his tears and promised that one day, they would go someplace far, far away and he could count on her and cry whenever he needed to without fearing reprimanding from their parents.

But that day never came and there was so many things she wanted to tell him before he died. Mel would never get to tell him how much he meant to her. She'd never get to have the chance to take him away from that awful place; other forces at work had beaten her to it.

"I mean it. I love you very much." Mel told JD once more. _"I'll never go back to shoving people away. What if he decided to kill himself tonight? What if things got really bad and he never knew there was someone out there who cared?"_ she decided to let the Heather issue drop completely; now was not the time.

JD had to bite his own tongue hard to keep it from coming loose. He didn't want to say it back until he knew Mel would accept it completely. If he said it now, she'd be under the impression it wasn't nearly close to what he truly meant to convey with those words.

Heather Chandler needed to just go away. Why was she intruding? Why was she trying to spoil their happiness? Wasn't it enough she had everyone at Westerberg groveling at her feet? Wasn't it enough every guy wanted her and every girl wanted to be her and more?

But then, JD couldn't say he didn't understand; if their positions were switched, he would never give a second thought to the mindless zombies and ass kissers who were fair weather friends at best. He was certain that Heather would tell them all to go to hell if it meant being with the one person who truly cared; that is, if she had a shred of integrity in her shriveled heart.

Mel deserved so much more; he would be the one to give her the world. He would be the only one to worship her, provide for her, fight for her, die for her, kill for her. JD just needed to make her see and he was already so close.

JD had waited his whole life for someone to see him and he'd drop dead before he let someone like Heather take it away. She could rot in the hell she had made for herself for all he cared. It was due to her lust for power and her disregard and utter lack of empathy for others that had led her to where she was. She was digging her own grave and JD would be more than happy to be the one to shove her in. The mental image of him and Mel picnicking on her grave made his smile grow wider as he nuzzled into Mel's shoulder and took in the scent of her sweater greedily.

"I can handle myself...still you're sweet to be so concerned. I know we don't exactly see eye to eye, but I don't care. Your heart's in the right place; you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to anyone. You're a damn good person. It's why I love you Jason."

"Say it again…?" JD made his voice meek and slightly embarrassed like the vulnerable boy she thought he was. It was too easy, and yet it was no less satisfying to know he had her on his side.

Mel laughed and patted his head like he was a small child; she saw no harm in indulging him this once. Not when he needed it the most. "I love you….in fact, I love you as much as Steven Tyler loves cocaine. And that was scientifically proven to be a shit ton."

JD chuckled and tried to discreetly brush his face against her hair. "Mel, did you like the roses? I was actually thinking of a CD or something. I planned to go shopping for a late gift tomorrow. The flowers were last minute...I would have felt weird coming today without anything."

"Ah, screw that." Mel ruffled his hair in a playfully rough way. "Your presence is my present. And I like roses anyway. Oh!" she stood up and grabbed the bouquet with a suddenness that made J. D. regret not making her stay seated. "I better put these in water before they wilt. Did you eat yet?"

"Is that Chinese place still open?" JD asked. "I've got money. Let me treat you."

Mel beamed. "Sure. Sit tight, I'll get the menu." he could hear her searching through her junk drawer where she kept twist ties to bread packages and used grocery bags and old take out menus. "Hey, when's your birthday?"

"November sixth."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Oh that's Saxophone Day." Mel said nonchalantly; at JD's quirked eyebrow, she smiled. "I crashed a band party in high school. This kid stole my brother's headphones. He played the saxophone; I crushed his windpipe."

JD looked at her with awe. "No shit?"

"Nah, I'm kidding! I just punched him in the throat." Mel said dismissively as she continued her search. "He sucked anyway, sounded like two dead rats fucking."

"Do you like the saxophone?"

Mel shrugged. "I was never into it much, Maybe if it was in a rock song, but isn't it mostly for jazz and stuff?"

"I play."

"Really?!"

"I can play for you on my birthday. 'Tis the season." JD joked without really thinking; all he knew was that Mel was staring at him like he had just said he had the cure for AIDS. He never wanted her to stop. Everything was right in the world. Mel was happy, he was happy, they were spending quality time together; they were celebrating the day his only chance of salvation had come into the world. She was halfway to falling in love with him. Everything was going to be okay.

"Great. I'm sure I'll like it if it's from you." Mel said; she held up a battered piece of paper victoriously. "Found it, on me! Let's get some food!"

JD barely paid attention to the list of food; he kept thinking about how this year would be the year life would finally be worth living. On his eighteenth birthday, he'd be free to live with her. He could wake up every day to the sound of her voice. No one would be able to come between them.

Tomorrow Heather Chandler would see what happened when someone dared to.


	15. You Touched My Mind

Mel was currently between a rock and a hard place.

 _"Okay...if I don't wear this I won't be able to get my foot through the door."_ Mel sucked in a breath and tried to look at herself objectively in the mirror. _"On the other hand, I feel like I'm going to faint from nervousness...that might make it hard to eat if I'm dead…"_

"Are you done yet?!" Heather continually banged against the bathroom door.

Mel groaned and sent an irritated look over her shoulder despite knowing it wouldn't be seen. "Breaking down the door isn't doing to make me ready any faster."

"Like I care. It already took you forever to pick out something, so just put it on and get your ass out here."

"Okay, okay. Just a few more minutes." Mel sighed heavily.

On one hand Heather had been very generous to take her out shopping for a proper outfit; on the other, she was the pushiest person Mel had ever met in her life. Mel pulled up the top of her dress a little higher; it wasn't that she didn't like it per say. Actually, she could hardly recognize herself.

That being said, the unfamiliarity was making her that much more anxious; Mel couldn't care less what people thought of her typically, but eating at a restaurant located in a swanky hotel owned by friend's of Heather's parents was a different story.

 _"I can't back out now. I don't think that kid would let me forget it...and it does sound like a nice change of pace."_ Mel refrained from biting her lip so she wouldn't ruin her gloss; she insisted on wearing it so she'd feel a little more comfortable in her skin. It matched the bright pink color of the dress better in her opinion anyway. _"Okay, just cool it. Heather swore up and down this looked good. And if she was lying, she knows I can kick her ass. You're going to go out, do something new, and have fun! Probably."_

"Mel, are you taking a shit or are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Alright, geez." Mel glanced at her reflection one last time before opening the door and grabbing her handbag. "I feel more bad making Charlie wait."

'Who?"

"Charlie."

Heather frowned.

"...he's your driver." Mel said dryly.

"We're taking my car." Heather rolled her eyes. "And Chester couldn't care less if I remember who he is. We pay him to drive us when we need it, end of story, he gets his paycheck."

"Did you purposely call him by the wrong name or did you honestly forget?"

Heather grabbed Mel's arm. "Come on, just hustle."

Mel sighed once more and gently pulled her arm out of Heather's grasp. "Heather, don't you think it's a little strange for a teenager to be dragging an adult around like a show poodle?"

"No, seeing as you have no idea what you're doing."

"I think I can find the way outside my own house." Mel replied as she took out her key, ready to lock the door behind her once they were gone. "I'm serious Heather, don't think for a second you can talk to me like you talk to those girls. I'd call them your friends, but I don't know who orders their friends around."

"I don't order them around. I offer direction, guidance, and superior knowledge." Heather reached up to adjust the Mel's hair clip. "The rose is a nice touch."

"Thanks for not losing it." Mel said with a half smile as she slipped on her matching pumps; she hoped Heather wasn't planning on making them do a lot of walking. "So, who are we meeting up with? Are they friends of yours or just your folks?"

"They're more like associates."

"What, are they the mob?"

"Haha. No, they do business with my father." Heather said as she brushed her hair away from her neck and to one side. "We won't need to eat with them, but I have to suck up a bit." she huffed dramatically. "They're all a bunch of white bread, snoresville socialites. But like I said, the night won't be too ruined; a few minutes of small talk, blah blah blah, 'oh my god, what a nice tie!' and we can enjoy ourselves."

"Why not invite Heather and Heather?" Mel suggested. "It might be more fun if there's more people you like being around." she stared blankly as Heather frowned. "I mean, you do like them...at least a bit…?"

"They're not useless."

"Oh come on."

"Does it matter? It's hard to really like someone when you know they'd end up stabbing you in the back given the opportunity."

"I'd rather be alone in that case." Mel raised an eyebrow, but she felt a little flattered; despite her claims that it was for her own good and education, Heather was willingly inviting her somewhere to keep her company, and to thank her. Mel would bet all the money she had Heather rarely, if ever, gave straightforward gratitude. Still, it was depressing in a way.

 _"Well, let's just focus on getting to this place."_

Mel took her key and unlocked the door; just as she pushed it open, JD pulled the handle and swept into the room, school bag slung over his shoulder and a casual smile on his face.

"Hey Mel, sorry to barge in. Oh, hey Barbie-oops, sorry, it's Heather, right?"

Heather didn't seem able to quite say anything for a moment, so JD took the moment to turn back to Mel and look her over up and down.

"Jason-"

"You'll stop traffic." he flicked the rose hair clip lightly with a teasing smirk. "I like the new look."

"Aw, thanks...it's not too much? I was thinking something with pants, but it sounds like that would've been too casual for the dress code." Mel looked down at the full skirt and smoothed it down, but it only floated just over her knees; the pastel color and the modest bust line made her look comparatively modest next to Heather, who in J. D.'s humble opinion, looked like a high class hooker in the tight red cocktail dress.

"There's no contest." JD said nonchalantly as he began pulling out books and some paper from his bag to deposit on the dining room table. "Don't sweat it, it looks good on you."

The only good thing about Heather Chandler being in the room was how much she put a damper on the atmosphere; if they were alone, his response might have been more enthusiastic. JD personally thought the dress would look better ripped off and tossed to the side; he might let her keep on the pumps, but then the moment might be dead in the water if they ended up stabbing him when he wrapped her legs around his waist.

But then he was reminded of where the clothes came from. And then he was reminded of what they were for and who had insisted on putting Mel in a situation where she'd have to dress up in the first place and the fact that Heather Chandler was standing in Mel's home like she owned the place. And so, JD could only take pleasure in the fact this problem would be remedied soon enough.

"Jason, um...would you mind starting the car?" Mel asked Heather, who was glaring between the two of them with a look of disdainful recognition. While she wordlessly stalked off to her waiting porsche, Mel felt her body relax. JD looked unexpectedly unphased; maybe their talk the other night had set him straight. Perhaps he didn't like Heather, and while Mel fully expected for him to avoid coming over when she was going to be there, she was pleasantly surprised that he didn't seem to be overtly expression his aggression.

"Hope it's okay I'm here." JD said as he settled in at the table, his books already open. "I thought you'd be out by now. Did I interrupt-?"

"Oh no, we were just leaving." Mel looked over her shoulder to make sure Heather was indeed outside and in the car. "Is everything okay at home? Do you need me to stay here?"

"Nah, it's cool. I just needed a quiet place to do my business." JD lazily held up a packet of papers with a lopsided smile. "I'm not here to pick a fight with Malibu Barbie."

"Okay…" Mel sighed and smoothed out her dress. "Wish me luck. I feel like...how's that saying go?" she scratched her cheek. "It's like putting lipstick on a pig or something?"

"You're not a pig."

JD barely bothered wondering who could have put that idea in her head; the Heathers were all notorious for backhanded compliments. _"Leave it to the reigning queen snob to treat the only person who can stand her like crap. Don't worry Mel. After tonight, everything will be okay."_

Mel blinked at the forcefulness of his words. "I didn't mean it like it sounded; I mean, you can dress me up however you want, but I'm still a novice when it comes to places where you actually can get kicked out for wearing the wrong kind of shoe."

"Hey, someone able to use the word novice in a sentence without sounding like a pretentious prick should get a free pass."

Mel laughed and it was like a good omen; he was doing the right thing.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back. Just eat what you want if you get hungry, watch the TV, take a nap, whatever." Mel playfully messed up his hair with a cocked grin. "Wish me luck!"

"Luck." JD smiled genuinely, waiting until she was out the door to get his supplies together.

"What's with the Jesse James imposter?"

"I take it you know him then." Mel answered lightly as she buckled in; as soon as the seat belt clicked, Heather slammed on the gas and was zooming down the road. "Whoa, what's the rush?!"

"JD is what everyone calls him at school. That and psycho." Heather replied shortly as she made a sharp turn into the highway. "So, what, are you two related?"

"No." Mel answered honestly.

"How do you know each other?"

"I sort of just ran into him." Mel shrugged.

"And you're just letting him come over your house whenever he wants? You know what his creepy pervert mind is probably thinking of doing?" Heather curled her upper lip in vague disgust.

"Pull over."

"Oh what, did I insult your kindergarten boyfriend? You know he's waiting for you to stumble in drunk one of these nights so he can lose his virginity or something. Maybe you should find a guy your age, someone you don't have to sneak beer for."

Heather had no idea why she was saying this. _"Wait, I'm younger than him...shit! Well, if I don't have a shot he doesn't. God, are psychos the new black or what? What could she see in him?"_

"Pull. Over."

Heather glanced out of the side of her eyes, trying to focus on the road and not breaking the steering wheel off. "Don't be such a drama queen."

"Heather, now."

The commanding tone sent chills down Heather's spine and she wasn't sure how to feel about that as she pulled into a grocery store parking lot.

"What's your damage?"

"I'm not getting in the middle of your high school drama bullshit. Jason is my friend and if you insult him one more time, you can just take me home right now." Mel stated.

Heather spent the rest of the car ride chewing the inside of her cheeks while Mel fell into a sulky silence. Once they were in front of the hotel, Mel couldn't help letting out a sound of awe. They had been driving for nearly an hour to the edge of town, but it was worth it.

"Holy shit."

"Try to tone the cursing down. Just follow my lead." Heather advised with a smug sort of smirk at Mel's marveling eyes. The hotel lobby alone was certainly nicer than anything located in the middle of Sherwood; when Mel found herself trailing after Heather to the entrance of the first floor restaurant, she could hardly believe a place so clean and bright and decoratively high end was even built near the area.

"Heather," Mel asked tentatively as they made their way through tables topped with candles and white cloths. "Why would your family's business friends bother putting this place by Sherwood?"

"Technically it's on the outskirts." Heather replied as she took a seat at the bar. "You can just stay here when I have to go make small talk and say hello; after that, we can eat."

Before Mel could say anything, the bartender went up to them from behind the counter; in Mel's opinion, she didn't look like any bartender she ever saw. She was wearing what looked like a suit and her smooth hair was pulled back in a neat bun.

 _"Wow, even the staff looks high class…"_

"Miss Chandler, it's nice to see you again. Are you having the usual?"

"No, not yet." Heather's tone was pleasantly detached. "But my friend here could use a drink."

"Good evening, I'm Ashley." she smiled and gave Mel a cordial nod.

Mel smiled and tried to look not like a nervous wreck. "Hello, I'm-"

"Whatever she orders, put on my tab." Heather said suddenly before standing up. "Mel, I'm going to go over there for a bit-" she nodded her head to a table consisting of people who looked in their fifties; they were smiling and waving her to join them. "I shouldn't be too long if I say I'm having dinner with a girlfriend, so just relax here for a bit."

Mel's hand had already gone to her purse. "You don't have to-"

"Bring her an old fashioned to start." Heather told the bartender. "Mel, do you want to order an appetizer now?"

"I can wait for you."

Heather vapid smile faltered. "Is that a promise?"

"Uh, sure. I can wait to eat." Mel nodded.

"Right." Heather sighed and smoothed down her hair. "Just enjoy yourself. I'll be back soon."

Mel gazed after her as she walked over to the table. _"They seem nice...or are they just sucking up to her too? I hope not..."_

"Miss, would you like your drink on the rocks?"

"Oh yes. Thank you." Mel nodded with an apologetic smile; she wasn't sure why she felt she needed to be sorry though. She supposed it was because she felt so out of place; maybe Ashley was annoyed at having to serve someone who would never be able to afford to go there on their own, let alone tip her for the exceptional service.

 _"I feel weird that Heather's paying for me too...I mean, I guess I did technically pay for the test...and I did help her out, but still, how could I not? Even if Heather's mean or snobby, having an unwanted pregnancy is something that would affect her and the baby. It's a life changing, huge deal. Maybe if Jason knew, he wouldn't be so quick to say I shouldn't have helped. At least, I'd hope so…"_

"Here you go Miss."

"Thank you." A thought came to Mel so abruptly, she had to refrain from spitting out the first sip of her pleasantly smooth, citrus like beverage. _"Oh my god, she asked Heather if she'd have the usual. Like, what, it's totally cool to give as sixteen year old booze here? But then, if her family's well connected, maybe they'd overlook it or at least cut her off from the harder stuff. I'd think they would. Goddammit people, pay attention to your fucking kids..."_

Mel knew her own parents saw her as little more than a waste of their time and energy, but at least they didn't willingly allow her to drink or smoke or run off to some strangers place to crash before she got a driver's license. That being said, she also knew it was for appearances sake; as far as she knew, they had never taken any steps to get her back home. Mel knew that while they hadn't actually meant for her to run off and never return when they told her to hit the road, they weren't too concerned at the outcome.

 _"I guess no matter where you go, you can't get away from the ass hats."_ Mel sipped her drink to keep from chugging it. _"And what about me? If I'm the closest thing Jason and Heather have to actual friends or positive role models, that's just sad...I barely have it together. How did this happen? Maybe I should have just called the cops and told them about Jason's dad...but then, would they have done much to help? And what about Heather? Is Jason really right about her? If she keeps doing what she's doing, will she grow up as another jerk making the whole world harder for everyone else?"_

Mel wanted to slap herself, but it was just so hard to relax.

"Hello."

Mel inwardly sighed as a man took the unoccupied seat next to her; this was still a bar after all.

"Hello."

"I'm Davis Howard."

 _"What the hell kind of name is that? His last name should be his first name. Must be a rich people thing. Oh well, might as well be nice until Heather gets back."_

"I'm Mel."

"Is that short for Melanie?"

Mel shrugged. "Yeah."

"Oh wow."

"Trust me it wasn't in my top ten either."

"Oh no, you have the same name as this character from _'Gone in the Wind'_."

"Who?"

Davis smiled. "Oh it's this really long epic focusing and it takes place in the south primarily during the Civil War. It was made into a movie in 1939, but I always liked the book more."

Mel looked the man over; he must have been about thirty. His eyes continually went from her face to his drink.

"I was never much of a reader."

"You've never heard of it?"

"No."

Davis' smile faltered. "Sorry, am I bothering you?"

"Oh no!" Mel said quickly. "I...well, I'm here with a friend, and I'm not used to going to places like this."

"Yeah, the bar scene isn't me either."

"Oh no, I love the bar scene. I'm a part time bartender actually." Mel scratched her cheek with a sheepish smile. "Get this. It's like, I'm worried I'll break something in here and get sued and then be forced to live on the streets. Is that weird?"

"It's not what I was thinking...but it is pretty hilarious." Davis pushed up his glasses as he chuckled and stared at his leather shoes. "Look...I saw you and I thought to myself, 'Hey, look at her, she's really pretty, why not go talk to her and not be weird and maybe she'll be as interested in you as you are in her'. But, now I'm realizing I probably just made things even worse, so, I'll just leave you to enjoy yourself. Sorry." Davis stood up with a pained half grin. "And, don't be nervous. You really are beautiful." he waved. "Bye."

Mel stared at him as he began to turn away. "Was that whole line planned or did you really just blurt it out?"  
"That was mostly word vomit. It's true though."

"Who's the chick in the book who shares my name?"

Davis blinked. "Melanie?"

"Yeah." Mel nodded and patted the stool next to her. "Don't leave me in suspense. Like, what does she do? Is she an evil racist?"

"No. I mean, it takes place in the 1800's, so everyone was super racist, but other than that, she's pretty nice. You see, there's this contrast between her and the main protagonist-"

"Who's she?"

"Scarlett O'Hara. She's starts off proud, ignorant, and vain and then develops into a more mature person who's determined to save her family and their land. Melanie is the woman who ends up marrying the man Scarlett thinks she's in love with, and they end up forming a sort of friendship, but I won't give away details!"

"Okay, okay, so what's Melanie's deal?"

"She acts as Scarlett's foil basically; she's not quite as smart or attractive-"

"You're not selling me on this book so far-"

"But," Davis laughed. "She is also compassionate, very gentle, loyal, but she can also fight for herself when she needs to; she loses everything and faces challenges, but then she continues to strive for whst she wants and treats others kindly."

"Except for her slaves?"

"Pretty much, though she has that mindset of them being lesser beings that need to be watched over, which for the time period was actually considered benign if you can believe it." Davis smiled dryly. "But once you get over the time period standards-oh hello." he sat down; Ashley came over to ask for his drink order. "I'd like a gin and tonic, thank you."

"But what happens with her?"

"Read the book. Or watch the movie." Davis said blithely at Mel's pout. "It really is an amazing story. Love it or hate it, the themes, the characters, the writing, I guarantee, it'll stick with you."

"I never did read much. I'm more into music." Mel confessed as she played with the cherry in her glass.

"Music tells stories. What kind do you enjoy?"

"Rock, punk, a bit of metal."

"I have to say, you don't look like the type."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover."

"Keep that in mind if you read _'Gone with the Wind_ '." Davis reminded her. "So, who is the friend brought you here to a new environment?"

"Do you know Heather Chandler?"

"I think so, At least I've spoken with her father and uncle."

"She invited me out to eat, but right now she's busy."

"You don't go to school with her right?"

"Nah. I'm twenty three."

"Oh thank god." Davis wiped a hand over his face. "You had me feeling like a creep for a second."

"Do I look that young?"

"No. Well, it could go either way." Davis said truthfully. "Do you go to the university?"

"Actually, I never finished my junior year of high school. I'm a part time bartender, part time 7-Eleven employee." Mel waited for the grimace or lecture.

"How do you do that? I mean, I'd be sweating like crazy trying to remember orders and hoping I mixed the right amount, and then I always hear place like convenience stores get robbed-and sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable…" Davis ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be honest, I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"Who does?" Mel snorted and took another sip. "You're okay, really. I actually used to not be so talkative, but sometimes all you need is to meet the right people to get going, you know? Anyway, I like both jobs. And I have a crowbar handy if things get-"

"Out of hand?"

"Boo."

Davis ran a hand through his cropped hair. "Okay, that was bad. Do I get a point for making you smile?"

"Do you think you should get one?"

"I think your smile should be worth ten." Davis took his drink and sipped from ther straw with a half smile half grimace. "Was that too drippy?"

"Usually. But you're not bad with words." Mel offered him a smile. "Are you a bookworm?"

"And a writer. At least I'd like to be someday." Davis told her. "I'm currently employed by the owners here as their bookkeeper, which as the name suggests, is unfortunately _not_ about maintaining or reading a vast collection of literature."

"What do you write?"

"Mostly poems and short stories. I've had a few things published, but it seems I don't have the chops for a mass audience."

Mel cocked her head to the side. "Audience?"

"Well, I feel like books, music, films, even paintings, they all sort of tell a story right? They're expressions of the creator and putting them on display for the public always reminded me of putting on a show. Not everyone might agree on the intended meaning or representation, but if it makes people stop and think and remember it, then I can't help feel as if it's saying something, and I am saying too much, I barely asked you anything," Davis smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry Melanie, most everyone says I carry on and on when I get invested-"

"No, don't apologize." Mel laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "It's not like I have much to say on it myself. Besides, I like the way you talk."

"Awkward rambles? If that's the case, I can provide a plethora of borderline gibberish and second hand inducing embarrassment for you to put up with."

Mel smacked her knee, her cackle making almost everyone in the general vicinity on alert.

"You are a riot man!"

Davis chuckled softly. "Really?"

"I mean, your vocab is just far out." Mel beamed as she tried to contain herself. "Damn, I wouldn't mind reading your stuff if you write the way you talk-oops, sorry!" she put her fingers to her mouth, having completely forgotten Heather's advice; Davis was looking nervous, but his eyes weren't on her or the other patrons. His hand was pulling out a piece of paper.

"If you mean that...would it be presumptuous of me to give you my number before I have to go to my dinner meeting? Unless you'd rather just read my work?"

"Why not both?" Mel took the folded up piece of paper in her hand. "I mean, if you don't mind giving a shot to chick who doesn't known Fred Nietzcha from...whatever his name actually is."

"I always found him a bit depressing honestly. I'd rather read Shakespeare or Jane Austen." Davis took her hand and gave it a light tap before leaving his stool unoccupied. "Or just listen to your voice over the phone in the near future…..okay, bye!"

Mel blinked a few times to make sure she was still awake.

 _"I just got flirted with by a thirty something year old bookkeeper/aspiring author who acts like a teenage girl with a crush. And he gave me his number. And it was already written down."_

She unfolded the slip after her next drink order was taken; there was indeed his name and number written clearly in black ink. But that wasn't all.

Forswear it sight, for I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Sorry, that was from Shakespeare. But I do think you're beautiful pretty beautiful.

Hope to hear from you soon

-Davis

Mel put a hand over her mouth; she was certain smiling like a maniac would be disturbing to the other patrons.


	16. Promise Heaven Then Put Me Through Hell

JD looked up from the table as Mel and Heather stumbled in from the doorway. "Looks like you ladies had a fun evening."

"Mostly." Mel had Heather propped up one side of her while she kicked the door closed behind her. "The food was great. I think Heather could have stood to do more eating and less drinking…"

"Those old fogeys were boring me to death." Heather mumbled as she brought a hand to her forehead; true to form, she still looked ravishingly elegant and had even somehow managed to maintain a polite yet indifferent tone of voice as she spoke and listened to her elders, all of whom seemed none the wiser as she discreetly finished glass after glass of champagne. By the time she had been able to excuse herself to join a tipsy Mel at the bar, she was a couple drinks away from staggering.

JD blinked slowly. "And I'm sure you were able to provide Mel with stimulating conversation about shoes and celebrity weddings and-"

"Jason, please, not now." Mel sighed tiredly as she balanced Heather and made her way to the bedroom. "Can you get me a glass of water? I'm pretty wasted too and unlike some underage drunks, I want to avoid a hangover."

"On it." JD went straight to the kitchen cabinet to get a clean glass as Mel half carried Heather to her bedroom, silently thanking the powers that be JD wasn't pressing for an argument with a drunk and already easily irritable woman.

"How can those people just let her drink like that?" Mel asked herself for what felt like the hundredth time as she unhooked the straps of Heather's shoes and placed them near the foot of the bed.

"Don't tell them what I can't be doing." Heather said thickly as she threw an arm dramatically over her eyes. "And pipe down, my head hurts…"

"Already?" Mel asked in exasperation. "See, that's just what I mean. If you keep drinking like that, you'll get alcohol poisoning or get into a bad accident, or-"

"Thank you." Heather cut her off with a dazed sort of mumble. "Thanks...thanks a whooole bunch...and stop talking. You're so fucking loud."

Mel frowned in confusion. "What are you thanking me for?"

"You're actually worried, aren't you? That's really sad. You're sad. Don't you know anything? I'm a Heather. I feel bad...for you." Heather bopped Mel's nose with her palm. "You. Not me. You."

"Take care of yourself and I wouldn't worry." Mel retorted lightly as she made the slowly waving arm lie back down at Heather's side. "I'm serious. This is really bad for your health. Are your parents really not worried about you drinking at that bar?"

"Nope. The staff won't say no. Besides, they can't tell when I'm drunk."

"Okay, but your mom and dad-"

"Don't care. And who cares? I'm a teenager, we drink and party." Heather said like it was dumb of Mel to even question it. "I'm fine, so stop nagging me. You're not my mom."

"Good thing, 'cause I feel like you'd be a handful…" Mel said wryly. "Would you even listen to them if they did tell you not to?"

"They won't. They let me do whatever I want." Heather said with a loud yawn. "I can do anything. I'm perfect."

Mel didn't miss the slight bitterness in the words. "If I had a kid, I'd be keeping an eye on them… or I'd at least check in while they're home alone. Does everyone in your class drink like this?"

"Only the ones with a social life." Heather smiled lazily while Mel carefully pulled out her dangling earrings before they got stuck in her hair. "Brush my hair again." she clapped her hands like she was ordering a servant to fetch her something.

"Later, okay? I don't think you'd be able to keep your head up and I don't want you moving around too much." Mel chided as she put the jewelry on the night stand. "Try to sleep for now. I'm putting a trash can next to the bed, so if you have to throw up, go on in that."

"Oh please, I'm not nearly drunk enough for that." Heather laughed airily. "Hey Mel?"

"What's up?"

"Did you have fun?"

Mel smiled and nodded. "Yeah actually. And guess what else?" she pulled out the slip of carefully folded paper from her bag. "I got this cute guy's digits. Do you know Davis Howard? He said he's talked to your old man and your uncle."

"You're kidding?" Heather hiccuped and fixed Mel with a stare that was half disbelieving and half nonplussed; she could feel a surge of red hot anger buried under her fuzzy mind, but the booze was numbing it to a slow burn. "You realize he's like, ancient."

Mel looked down at her in surprise. "How old is he?"

"37."

"Heather, that's only….twelve years older."

"It's fourteen Einstein." Heather drawled as her head flopped back down on the bed with a heavy sigh. "Well, you'll see. He never shuts up about books and education and all that bull crap. Guys who're that smart are too dumb to just have a good time."

"I don't know. I had fun." Mel smiled bashfully. "But...well, if he's all that smart, I guess he'll get bored with me pretty fast."

"Yeah, cause you're not boring enough for him." Heather felt herself slipping into sleep reluctantly; she'd convince Mel later. For now, she wanted to focus on not hurling on her sheets.

"I guess I'll just have to see." Mel told her with a shrug. "Hey, have you seen _'Gone with the Wind'_?"

"No. In three hours I could watch two movies that won't give me brain cancer."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Good night Heather. Call if you need anything."

JD was waiting outside in the hallway with a glass of cold water.

"Thanks." Mel took it gratefully. "How was your night? Still studying?"

"Yeah, just getting caught up." JD replied. "Sounds like you had a really good time."

"I did actually. Heather was nice. At least when she was able to get away from those people. I thought they seemed nice though."

"No wonder she didn't like them." JD remarked simply.

"I'll take her home in the morning, okay? Do you mind sleeping on the couch?"

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"I'll just get my sleeping bag and crash on the floor in my room-"

"You take the couch. I'll take the bag." JD said immediately. "You're going to feel like shit in the morning if you lie on the floor."

"Are you sure?"

"If you don't mind sharing the living room."

Mel shook her head and took a long drink; her teeth were feeling sour and her throat dry. "Did you eat?"

"To hear you, you'd think I'd let myself starve."

"You know what I mean." Mel nudged his arm with her elbow. "I'll take you out to dinner someplace nice sometime. Maybe for your birthday if you don't have plans."

"If you're serious, I'd cancel them."

Mel smiled warmly. "Jason, did you hear everything I said in there?"

"...yeah."

"I feel a bit...silly. I mean, this guy is out of my league. He's a total dork, but he's...I don't know, he pulls it off. And he's...charming? I don't know, maybe it's 'cause I've never dated a guy with any real substance or personality." Mel scratched her cheek with a little sigh. "Geez, I can't believe that a kid has way more experience with men then I've had in my whole life. It's sad really."

"I doubt that. Heather probably wouldn't know a good date if it bit her in the ass."

"Hey, what's first base? I was never up on that lingo."

"Tongue."

"Oh." Mel blinked and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, shit that's nice. In those terms, I haven't even gone up to bat."

JD shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned casually against the table while Mel refilled her glass in the kitchen sink. "I thought you dated?"

"Sure, a few guys." Mel admitted. "But nothing ever happened. One of them tried to kiss me at the door, but I was already going inside and he ended up accidentally falling forward and smashing his nose on the doorknob. Needless to say, he didn't call me back."

Mel chuckled and downed her second glass before going back in the bedroom to change into her night gown. JD went to the shoe and coat closet as instructed and pulled out a musty blue sleeping bag from the top shelf; he decided it wouldn't be too odd to move the coffee table to lay it next to the sofa. Mel was still pretty buzzed herself, and he doubted she'd even think twice if she was sober. She trusted him.

 _"No, she thinks I'm not looking at her that way."_ JD corrected as he listened to the sounds of her brushing her teeth; he could hear snoring and presumed it was Heather, unconscious and dead to the world, unfortunately not in the literal sense. Maybe with any luck she'd choke on her own alcohol induced vomiting in her sleep.

 _"She didn't sound too happy about this Davis guy either."_ JD mentally noted. _"Fourteen years difference. Is that her type? So he read one popular novel, how does that make him some genius? What a tool. Of course he'd think she was probably some airhead who'd be easily impressed by that crap."_

But there was a silver lining; Mel seemed to be under the impression that someone who had a deeper personality, someone who was intelligent and educated and astute wouldn't think she was at their level. How many times had Mel stated how smart he was, how far he could go in his education?

 _"That's why she's so hesitant. She thinks she's not good enough for me or I wouldn't be interested because she doesn't read much or she didn't finish school herself. Goddammit Mel..."_

JD wanted to laugh; sure, insightful conversation was more than welcome, but Mel was smart in her own right. And she was perceptive. He was certain there were several works in his own collection she'd be interested in if she gave them a chance. But this old creep sounded like he just wanted to flaunt his fancy college degree and high paying job in her face.

When they were together, he'd make sure she stopped that way of thinking.

JD never really thought of the first time as that big of a deal, but this would be his chance to show Mel how beautiful he thought she was. He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face the first time he'd-

"Do you think that's odd?"

"I wouldn't say odd." JD told her as she sat down on the couch and unfolded her blanket. "Unless you're worried you'll get a bad back from sleeping on the sofa."

Mel sent him a look. "Not the issue. I meant...well, ya know. The whole inexperience thing...at my age." she rested her cheek in her hand and chuckled. "People think I'm waiting for marriage or some crap, but that's not it. I just haven't met anyone I want to do it with. And for a long time, dating wasn't really on the brain."

"It's none of my business or anyone else's."

Mel clicked off the lamp and settled back on the couch; a bit of her hair was spilling over the side of the pillow a few inches above his hand.

"Jason, have you made any friends at school?"

"Nah."

"Oh."

"We're friends."

"Yeah, but don't you want to hang out with people your own age? Or go out and find a girlfriend?"

"It's slim pickings at good ol' Westerberg to be honest. I'm holding out for a dame I can talk to for five minutes without wanting to blow my brains out."

JD said as he scooted his hand over to let it be tickled by the tips of her hair.

Mel yawned. "Come on, you're pretty cute for someone who was born from a creepy looking guy like your old man. I'm sure there's plenty of nice girls who'd like you."

"There's this girl who tries to talk to me sometimes."

"Oh?" JD could hear the playful suggestion in Mel's voice. "Is she cute?"

"Sure." he said. "She's a smart cookie. I can tell she's dying to leave there too. But so is everyone else."

"She sounds nice. Why not ask her out? Isn't homecoming soon?" Mel frowned. "That's in October right? Or September?"

"Didn't you go to yours?"

"Nah. I wasn't blowing money to see people I didn't give a crap about."

"Wise decision."

"More like cheap. But, there you have it." Mel said. "So, how about you? You never know, this girl could be someone really special. At the least, you might gain a friend."

"She's not my type."

"Ugh. You guys and your types. I can't tell you how many guys I've known said they were only into a girl who looked like this or looked like that, but they'll still fuck any girl who'll say yes."

"I hope you don't think I'm under that category. I'm serious when I say she's not the type of person I'm into."

"I'd help you, but I don't know any girls your age."

"I want someone who's mature."

"Well, you can't go by age." Mel said knowingly. "I can't tell you how many of the women who come into Sheila's act like they're still teenagers."

JD brushed his fingertips against the strands falling; he could only just make them out in the dark. "Not all teenagers are immature."

"True." Mel conceded. "I wonder if Davis would care I've never done anything before. He's a grown man, he shouldn't make a big deal out of it."

"I wouldn't."

"I know."

JD's hand flew back to his side so fast he almost broke his wrist; Mel was now leaning over the edge of the couch, a sweet smile stretching over her flushed cheeks. He could smell champagne on her breath; her hand went to pat his cheek briefly and then she was laying back on the cushions.

"You're a good person Jason. I could tell right away. I hope you meet someone just as nice; maybe not in your school, but somewhere."

"Yeah."

"Say it more confidently. Come on, say it."

"Yes."

"Good." Mel chuckled and closed her eyes. "Night, love you kid."

"Night Mel."

As JD listened to her breathing grow softer and slower until she eventually began letting out whistles of snores, he felt his blood pump faster and faster through his own veins.

JD hated her. In that one instance, he hated her so much.

 _"How could you do this to me Mel? Huh? Goddamn woman, you're killin' me here…"_

How could Mel say the things she said and touch him so briefly and then leave him wanting?

Was she doing it on purpose? Was she intentionally ignoring all his hints? Or was she really dumb?

"Hey, Mel?"

No reply; JD slowly rose from the floor until he was sitting straight up.

"Mel?" JD repeated until his voice was at a normal level, but she didn't stir or even twitch in her sleep. JD wondered if all people were heavy sleepers when drunk.

"Mel?" his shaking fingers went to her cheek; they were burning from the alcohol. Or were his fingers burning? She looked so impassive, so disconnected from the world at that moment.

JD wanted to see the expression she'd make when he pinned her down on the couch; it wouldn't be hard, she was only wearing a nightgown, no hassling with zippers or buttons. JD held his breath for a few minutes as he wrestled with his own mind.

Heather was in the next room, but she was out cold too. Would she hear it if Mel screamed? Maybe she wouldn't even wake up or she'd think it was all a dream.

 _"No. You know it's wrong, just shut the fuck up. You sick piece of shit, she's a fucking virgin."_ JD pulled back and made himself lie flat on the floor and dug his nails into his palms. _"Not like this. Son of a bitch, I'm sorry Mel."_ he fought to not smash the back of his head against the hardwood floor to get rid of his thoughts.

 _"Why? Do I want it that badly? Not really that badly. I don't want to hurt you Mel, I don't want to control you...I don't know what's wrong with me."_

JD wanted to hold hands. He thought of them going on a date to the gun range, eating ice cream, driving her home from work, imagined nights where they'd share the same bed and Mel would listen to her music while he tinkered away at his projects. Some nights they'd just lie next to each other and talk. Or maybe they'd say nothing at all; maybe he'd just hold her and she'd hold him and they'd fit together so well, they'd wonder how in the world they ever were apart.

 _"Slow the fuck down."_ JD thought to himself as he went to the bathroom; he'd handle his little problem and go back to bed and it would be fine. He was just overwhelmed, a bit wired from his planning earlier.

It was that Davis' fault; JD was feeling the pressure bearing down on him like a ton of bricks. What if he got to her before him? What if he ran out of time? And what about Heather? That was one thorn in his side he still needed to get rid of.

He was nothing like her. All Heather did was take and take and take and didn't give a damn about who she had to step on to get what she wanted. She took advantage of people's fear and vulnerability and their desire to not be the outsider.

Mel wasn't a tool to use to make JD feel less shitty about the kind of person he was. She made him stronger and once she let him in, he could do that much more for her. He'd give her happiness and pleasure and everything else she needed from him.

"Every time we fuck I'll give you a part of my soul. How's that for poetry, babe?"

JD chuckled as he received no answer; after a moment, he knelt down by Mel's head and pulled the covers up to her chin. With a wide grin, he pushed back her hair from her forehead and patted her cheek as gentle as she did just minutes before. He didn't stop smiling until the morning came and Mel went into her room to check on Heather.

"Jason, get her some water, she's hung over really bad." Mel asked him apologetically. "I've gotta go toss the sheets in the wash…"

JD did so without so much as a dry remark; he whistled a tune as he worked mixing in the Hull Cleaner and a touch of milk and a spritz of tomato juice to hide any odd scents.

"Oh look, it's the crypt keeper." Heather drawled as she rubbed her crusty eyes.

Mel sighed and took the mug from JD; she glanced down and frowned. "What's this?"

"My dad has me fix him hangover cures on rough nights. Trust me, this'll counter at least the majority of the effects."

"Huh. Well thanks Jason, that's very considerate of you." Mel smiled up at him as she sat down next to Heather; she put down the brush she had been using to undo her tangles. "Here, this'll help. Afterward I'll make us all some breakfast."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Heather shot a nasty look at JD as if he were some bug that had wandered in to pester her.

"Heather, don't be like that." Mel said soberly. "Honestly, can't you at least try to be nice?"

JD shrugged his shoulders with a flippant smile. "If she can't handle it-"

"Oh, like you wouldn't hock a loogie in the damn thing."

"My god, can you two-here,"

JD's blood ran ice cold.

Mel took a drink and swallowed with a grimace.

"Yuck, tomato juice." Mel smiled. "See Heather, it's-"

Heather jumped out of the bed as Mel fell out of it; her screech of horror went through one ear and out the other as JD ran to Mel's side.

"Oh my god…"

The mug crashed to the ground and spilled it's contents all over the floor. Mel was kneeling and gasping like she was going to throw up.

"You freak!" Heather was curled up and grabbing her hair in piles. "Oh my fucking god, you tried to kill me!"

"It was a prank!" JD was holding Mel by the shoulders, trying to look into her eyes as she hacked and wheezed. "Call the hospital, now."

"You lying bastard, what the fuck was in there?!"

"CALL THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!"

Tears were streaming down Mel's face and spit was trailing down the side of her lips as she grabbed onto the sleeve of JD's jacket.

"Mel?! I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen, it'll be okay, just breathe-"

Heather ran out of the room, sending JD a tearful glare, silently promising this wasn't over. He heard her shrill voice from the living room as she spoke to the paramedics.

"It's okay. It's okay, everything will be okay Mel, I didn't mean to," JD chuckled weakly, trying to keep the shakiness from his voice. "You gotta believe me, it was an accident. God, I'd never hurt you."

Mel shoved him away and ducked over to grab at the tiny trash can; she ended up knocking it sideways and vomiting out the contents of her now possibly scarred stomach.

JD shut his eyes tight and tried to just focus on rubbing her hair as she struggled to stay alive. It was ruined. Everything was ruined.

And it was all his fault.

 _"No, it's their fault. And that fucking bitch, she never was supposed to be here! I'll get her if it's the last thing I do."_

"They'll be here in five minutes. Is she breathing?" Heather was rushing back into the room, dropping to her knees with a glass of water in her hand. "Mel-"

"DON'T!"

"What the fuck is your-?!"

"Don't touch her!"

Heather flinched violently as JD grabbed the cup and gave it to Mel carefully.

"Drink this Mel...come on, just try...there you go, keep drinking, I'll get you more..."

Heather stared at them in sick fascination as JD's ferocious glare turned to tender concern; she could faintly hear the sirens coming closer and closer to the house.

"You really are cracked…"


	17. Bizarre Love Triangle

**Author's Note: Yes, the chapter is the title of an actual song from the 80's. Enjoy!**

Mel had been in the hospital only once before.

"Where were you?"

"I was on the sidewalk."

Mel didn't look up from her lap as the police officer loomed over her; she knew he wasn't speaking in an accusatory way in the slightest. If anything, She knew her parents were already getting it in their heads that she was partially the reason for them being there that day.

"Did you see the car coming?"

"No. I was looking down the other side of the street."

"What did you see?"

"I didn't see it at first. I heard it...the tires screeching." Mel spoke without much inflection. For some reason the tears were pouring when she went to her brother's side, but then they stopped as soon as the paramedics dragged her from his body.

 _"That's was all he is now."_

Mel sat half immersed in despair as the cop continued to write notes; all she could see was a lump covered in white sheets being rolled into the back of the ambulance. Standing up, the corpse would barely come to her waist.

"Tell me more if you can."

"I looked back to the street where he was riding. His headphones were knocked off and he was laying a bit away from the car. His arm was almost off I think. I remember a lot of blood coming from that spot."

"The spot where his shoulder connected to his torso?"

"Yes."

"Then what did you do, Miss?"

"I held his hand. I think he was already passed out."

Mel had already been told by the doctor an hour earlier that Jason had stopped holding on. Her parents wouldn't allow her in to see the body and she was strangely okay with this. She had seen enough. The headphones still felt warm in her hand, but she knew it was from her own tightfisted grip.

"Did you attempt to move your brother at any time?"

"No."

The officer sighed softly. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Mel kept her eyes down as she felt a strong hand squeeze her shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry. You can go back inside with your parents now."

The cop was already putting away his notes and getting ready to go back into the squad car. He felt it was unnecessary to bring a young lady into the station for minor detail questioning.

"I think I might stay out here for a bit longer."

Mel didn't bother to say her parents had told her before that she was free to go home once she was done speaking with him. They seemed irritated at her presence. It never crossed her mind to grieve with them.

"Do you need a lift anywhere?"

"I think I'd like to walk...clear my head. Thank you though sir."

"Thank you for your time. Be careful, Miss."

Mel almost wanted to stop and ask if she could take the cassette player that had been attached to Jason's pants, but then she remembered it had been run over and crushed.

After that day, Mel never set foot in a hospital again; she did spend quite some time in the cemetery. She couldn't ever understand why people avoided them unless to visit graves. Mel thought they were like parks, except there were always flower and they were much quieter. If anything, hospitals were more depressing; dying seemed a lot more awful than being dead.

So, Mel was somewhat surprised to find herself lying half awake in a clean hospital bed as a nurse leaned over to prop her head up on a stiff pillow. Mel wondered if her brother felt any of the same sensations as he laid in a similar kind of bed, but then she remembered he had indeed been knocked unconscious. She liked to think he was dreaming of something nice before he died.

"Miss, are you awake?"

"Y-yeah…" Mel winced; her throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper on the inside and punched on the outside. "What...happened…?"

"You had to have your stomach pumped. Don't worry, there was no lasting damage, no scarred tissue even." the nurse said serenely. "In fact, you were very lucky to have only drank a little sip of that stuff."

Mel managed a smile but it soon fell as she felt a stab of panic. "Where's J-Jason?"

"Who sweetie?"

"The boy...he pulled the prank...he didn't mean to-"

"I'm sorry, only relatives are allowed to visit now. You did have a young man and a girl ask to see you, but then the cops and these other two came to talk with them." the nurse had a look that said she was trying to recall something. "The doctor didn't have time to tell me details, but I saw them. The man was a bit out of shape, dark grey hair, the lady was blonde and wearing a pink uniform...ring any bells?"

"I w-work for them...can I see them?"

"In a bit I suspect. We need to just make sure you won't need anything else for treatment. If all checks out, you can be out of here tomorrow."

"Thank you."

Meanwhile chaos had broken loose downstairs in the waiting room; Gary was being held back by two cops as JD was doubled over on the tile floor and was making no move to get up.

"Gary, what in God's name is the matter with you?!" Sheila made to hold her husband back herself, but one of the officers pulled her gently to the side. Gary was raving.

"You little shit! Is this how you thank someone who helped your sorry ass?!"

"Sir, you need to calm down or we'll be forced to take you into custody!"

Heather Chandler stood on the side, eyes wide and hand brought to her face. She had not been ready for anything like this to happen.

"Gary, sweetie, please." Sheila begged him through her tears. "For God's sake, think of Mel! We're in a hospital have some goddamn self control."

Gary was still shaking but he lowered his fists; one of them was smudged with JD's blood.

"I don't want you going near her. You could have killed someone with that 'prank'. Did you even think about how powerful those chemicals are? Huh?!"

"I never meant for this to happen…" JD stayed on the ground; a drop of blood fell from his lips to his chin.

"Yeah, a shit ton of good that is now." Gary looked at the officers. "I want to see my girl."

"Can we?" Sheila came over and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Please, can't we at least go up to the floor she's on?"

"That'll be fine, but it's the doctor's decision to let you come inside the operation room." the officer told her calmly; he sent Gary a impassive look. "Please see your husband doesn't make another scene or we'll have to book him for disturbing the peace. We could already charge him for assault of a minor."

"I don't want to press charges." JD was up; he didn't bother to wipe his face. "I apologize to you both. This...was the last thing I ever wanted."

Sheila felt her glare soften at his glistening eyes. "We can deal with this all later. I just want to know if my baby's okay."

"We understand you're all concerned, but understand we need to keep order. I trust any issues here can be dealt with at another time with civility."

Heather and JD had already been questioned together; the cops didn't seem to care much for interviewing protocol. Heather's statement almost made JD come out of his trance; and then Gary and Sheila had come sweeping in through the hospital doors and JD felt a fist as hard as a frozen ham colliding with his mouth. He knew he deserved that and a few hundred more; he was mildly shocked at the couple's behavior. If he didn't already know the story, he would have assumed Mel was their flesh and blood daughter.

Sheila led Gary away to the elevator and the cops were taking their leave, deciding that since no one was pressing charges of any kind, there was no need to stick around. Just a dumb prank gone badly wrong, luckily without any lasting damage. All in all, it was a good day in Sherwood.

"Clean yourself off. You're scaring people." Heather shoved a tissue in JD's hand; people in the waiting room were in fact staring openly. "I need you to come outside with me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"We know she's okay. She got out of surgery; they'll have her rest for a long time."

"How do you know?"

"I knew this college idiot who overdosed on a shit ton of baby aspirin thinking he could get a wicked buzz." Heather spoke lowly. "We can't talk here. Let's go out to the smoking area."

Fortunately for them, there was no other anxious visitors in the small corner outside by a garden of dying daffodils. JD took his pack out with shaky fingers; Heather grabbed it from his grasp and took one for herself, striking a match from her purse and moaning in relief as soon as the smoke touched her lips.

"You're welcome."

"Save it James Dean."

"Original."

"We both know what happened this morning." Heather took a long drag; she looked awful. "That was a pretty dumb stunt you pulled. I knew some people would kill to have me dead so they could take my place, but I didn't think a freak like you would feel threatened enough to try it."

"You told the cops a different story." JD licked his busted lip and used his half full lighter to set his own cigarette ablaze.

"And if I cry a bit and say I felt too scared to tell the truth in front of you, they'll believe the real story in a heartbeat. You are the sicko who thought it'd be funny to induce vomiting with rust begone."

JD smirked hollowly. "What do you want Heather?"

"Excuse me, Miss Chandler?"

Heather stubbed out her finished cigarette on the ground; a receptionist had her body halfway out the glass door.

"Yes?"

"There's a visitor here that wanted to see the patient you two are waiting to see. He says he knows you." the woman adjusted her thick glasses with some timidity at Heather's cold gaze. "A Mr. Howard?"

"Yeah, I know him."

Heather opened the door all the way and swept past the startled woman; JD followed her lead and cracked the knuckles on his right hand before tossing his cigarette in the trash. The spark flew back in him and he had to keep from glaring outright at the unimposing bespectacled man in a neat coal black suit. He had a bouquet of white lilies and a nervous half smile as Heather came over to greet him.

"Thank you so much Mr. Howard-oh you didn't have to bring flowers." Heather was smiling like a gracious beauty queen on a runway. "They're lovely!"

"I wanted to come sooner when I got your message, but the meeting ran long." Davis said apologetically as he fiddled with the knot of his tie. "Have you been able to see her yet?"

"Yes, they had to pump her stomach and her throat is burnt, but it's nothing rest and a careful diet regimen won't help. I wasn't sure at first if I should call, but she said she had promised to call you soon and I figured maybe you'd get the wrong idea if you didn't hear from her…"

"Oh, that's hardly anything to worry about. Not when something this serious...god, will she be okay? Just yesterday we were talking and then this...how-?"

"It was an accident. I wouldn't feel right telling you all the details. I still feel a bit faint from all the craziness."

"Of course. You must have been so worried; you're a good friend to stay here all this time. Oh pardon me." Davis reached out his hand to JD who hadn't made to say a word. "Are you also a friend of Melanie's?"

"Something like that." JD smiled thinly and didn't move to shake Davis' outstretched hand. "Would you two like me to go outside while you chat, talk about stocks, your last brunch mimosas?"

"He's always full of quips." Heather sent JD a brief glare over her shoulder but he was already striding away out the door. She put back on a polite smile for Davis.

"It's fine, really. I'm sure he's having a rough time too." Davis said as he glanced down at his flowers somberly. "Is she really okay?"

"Yes. Would you like to stay with us and wait Mr. Howard? I was going back to smoke and get some fresh air."

"Oh no, I don't smoke." Davis shook his head. "I don't have time to stay, but would you mind giving these to Melanie when you see her? I want her to know I'm thinking of her and whenever it's convenient, I'd like to see her too. If there's anything else I can do to help…?"

"No, no, this is so kind of you already." Heather smiled as she took the flowers. "I'll be sure to relay the message."

As soon as Davis' back was turned, both Heather and JD expressions were bitter.

"How the hell can you get fresh air with one of these in your mouth?" JD exhaled and put a hand to his head; his eyes went to the flowers. Heather had placed them on a bench as she searched for another match. "Those look flammable."

"He'll know if we don't give them to her. That's your problem. You've always got your nose stuck in some pretentious book, but you have shit for brains. If you were smart, you would have found a better way to off me."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I've heard it already." Heather cut JD off with a sharp glance. "But like I said, if I wanted to, I could bust your ass here and now."

"So why don't you?"

"I don't like doing dirty work."

JD scoffed. "What, you're going to blackmail me into being your servant? Blow me."

"Like you could get it up for anyone else. Does Mel know about your fucked up crush?" Heather's voice was like ice. "God, I can only imagine the sick shit you've done when you're there alone. You'd probably be better locked up."

"Is there a point to this? Or can I just cut my losses and tell you to fuck off now?"

"You're going to help me. In return, I won't let it slip you meant to poison me, not even to Heather, Heather, or anyone at school. No one will know what a psycho you really are. No one else but us knows what really happened."

"What do you want? Spit it out. I want to see Mel."

"If you're smart and do what I say, we'll both get what we want."

JD quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And, uh, just what would the result of this deal be?"

Heather slowly let her eyes roam around her casually as if she was only taking in the sights and not making sure no one was there to hear a word.

"I have the connections. And you know how to get the job done. I want that yuppie out of the picture. I don't think you're stupid enough to have to be told why."

"You're hiring me as, what, a hitman or something?" JD chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah and I take the heat afterward."

"No, because I know you'll see me out too. All I want is to get Davis out of my way. I never liked him much anyway. But I don't know how to do it." Heather puffed and smiled in satisfaction. "I can lure him in. We can't just do it anywhere. Make up a story, he does business with my dad and my uncle. I set it up-"

"And I come in for the kill?"

"Can you manage to do it and keep your mouth shut afterward?"

"You know, I figured you were a ruthless bitch, but I didn't think you had this in you. Hell, if I didn't think you were the most disgusting snake I'd ever meet, I might be impressed."

"Like you have any right to say shit. I would have died before hitting the ground with that shit you made. That shit can burn a hole in someone's throat." Heather's smirk turned into a glower so hateful, JD almost couldn't believe she could look that serious without looking haughty. If anything, she looked more strained, like a caged animal. "If you messed up Mel bad, the deal's off. I'll call the cops so fast your head will spin and you wonder why you ever had the idea to fuck with me."

Heather tossed the stub and ground it underneath her foot. "I have plans with some people from school soon. If I don't show up, it'll look suspicious. I'll call Mel's place tomorrow and if you're there after school, we can talk details."

"I was planning on it." JD said. "Any suggestions for the method?"

"Whatever does the job, obviously. And make sure she gets these ugly things." Heather nodded to the flowers. "We can't raise any red flags or make anyone think we have something against him."

"Aye aye."

JD waited another fifteen minutes to go back inside once Heather was gone; he already knew the gist of what he would be doing.

" _Kill the asshole and then find a way to off her without anyone suspecting. Simple enough."_

JD carried the flowers as he descended the elevator. The receptionist said Mel had given him permission to visit; Gary and Sheila must have left, because he didn't run into them. But any semblance of confidence he felt vanished as soon as he entered the resting room and saw Mel lying there and hooked up to an IV.

"He-ey Jason."

JD stared dully at the tubes going out of her nose and back into a machine so she could get oxygen.

"Sorry if I'm loopy. The-they have me on pain meds. It's, um, hard to talk a bit." Mel cleared her throat and visibly winced. "Aw geez."

"Heather called that Howard guy. He asked us to give you these and to call him when you're up to it." JD handed her the lilies; his chest constricted at her awed smile as her fingers gently caressed the petals. "Heather had to leave too, but she said she'd call Monday to ask how you're doing."

"I don't think they'll let me out until tomorrow morning." Mel told him weakly as she set the flowers by her pitcher of water and a Dixie cup. "...are you okay?"

JD ran a hand roughly through his hair with a disbelieving grin. "You almost die and you ask me that? God Mel, you're making me feel like shit here."

Mel didn't say anything as he dropped down on the bed beside her.

"Cops asked questions. They knew it was an accident."

"...that was dangerous. And even i-if you just meant to make her sick, it was cruel."

"I'll be honest Mel; you probably know this already, but I couldn't care less if Heather took your place. Do I want her dead? No. But if I could make it so she's the one with a fucked up voice and a scar on their stomach, I would."

"They didn't have to-to cut me open like some pig. I need to let my burns heal in my throat. I'll be just fine." Mel told him slowly. "I-it's not your fault."

"Mel, just stop."

"It's not your fault."

JD blinked rapidly and wished that instead of spending most of his time smoking and waiting and hating himself, he had thought to buy her flowers. As if roses from the gift shop would make anything better.

"I wish you hadn't done it. You s-s-see what happens when you mess with stuff like that?"

Mel wheezed and reached for her empty cup; JD took it and filled it back up with the water in the plastic yellow pitcher. It was the color of piss. She drank the water and he refilled it, mostly because he was at a loss for anything else to do.

"I haven't b-been in a hospital since my brother died." Mel looked around with an almost wistful smile. "What a way to end the weekend."

"I went to one when the firemen found my mom under a ton of concrete and brick. She was crushed to death; the funeral was not open casket."

Mel felt her stomach churn as JD stared off into nothing.

"I never figured I'd be the kind of person to put someone I love in the hospital." JD chuckled and finally looked into her eyes. "Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"

"Jason, it was an accident."

"They said that about her too. I guess this time it really is. Nah, it was worse. It was a mistake. And of course, someone decent like you pays for it."

"Come here." Mel told him; her arms were open slightly.

JD swore he'd never forgive himself. He swore he wouldn't allow himself her affection until he made it up.

Mel cradled him in her arms; he leaned down too far and found his head resting just above the swell of her chest, cheek tickled by the paper thin slip. She smelled like primroses and antiseptic. JD realized the only thing keeping him from breaking was the arms holding him together and the fact that if he began bawling she would most certainly see him as a child and therefore not close to mature enough to be with.

"I'm sorry...I mean it, I'd never hurt you-"

"Sh, sh, it's okay...everything is going to be okay..."

"I know…"

JD could do it; he'd suck up his pride and meet with Heather Chandler and then when the time was right: kaboom. And in the process, he'd be killing two birds with one stone.

"I'm okay Jason. I'm right here. I won't leave you alone." Mel said through her soft wheezes; JD could heard how hard it was for her to speak from where his ear was pressing. And yet, she was doing so anyway and to comfort him.

"We'll be okay."

"I know…"


	18. West(erberg) Side Story

**Author's Note: Yeah, it's a side story. This isn't really canon to my own fic's events, but I hope it's enjoyed!**

"You're a bitch."

The silence first began with the few tables nearby; a boy sitting closest to where the Heathers were gathered together had his mouth hanging open. A half chewed sandwich was falling back onto his tray, but no one was paying him any mind.

"Excuse me?" Heather Chandler had her pen poised in midair, her other hand holding a clipboard with the survey results she had gathered so far.

"I said you're a bitch. Also, that's a stupid fucking question. But mostly you're a bitch. You and your friends. If you can call them that."

The tables next to the groups of students who fell deathly quiet were also ceasing their talking. By now almost everyone in the cafeteria had their heads turned in the general direction of where Mel was standing in front of the Heathers; it was lunchtime, but she didn't have a tray. Her knapsack was slung over her shoulders.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Heather Duke was the one to take a step forward with a cold glare, but the effect was a bit ruined since she was still a few inches short and needed to raise her chin to look Mel in the eye.

"Yes. Three awful, petty, ugly bitches. And I don't know what happened to make you all that way, but I don't care. You act like monsters, it's on you if everyone hates you. And believe me, everyone here does. They just don't want to say anything because you're all toxic. Not that people have to do much to upset any of you." Mel let her dull eyes roam their sneers. "I mean, it's like you three are permanently on your period."

Heather McNamara shook back her hair and looked at Mel from a safe distance behind her friends. "Then you should know we can make your life really difficult."

"And we will." Heather Chandler promised.

Mel didn't look scared. Or smug. Or upset. She didn't even look mad. All in all, she didn't quite feel anything as she stared down at these three girls playing grown ups. Time would only tell where they'd end up. As for herself, Mel could only guess.

"Give it a shot." Mel said with a shrug. "But it's the truth. You're just really messed up people. Good luck and try not to get AIDS from Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumbass over there."

"What'd you say skank?" Ram was up and stalking forward.

Mel stood her ground. "Gonna hit a girl half your size? Yeah big fucking man you are. Why don't you just go make out with your retarded pal and pretend I give a shit?"

Kurt stood up to join Ram; they were both a good head taller than Mel and they didn't look the least bit undeterred at the prospect of intimidating her.

"You watch your mouth."

"Yeah, what he said."

Mel stared them both in the face and lowered her voice considerably. "I swear to fucking god, if either of you put your hands on me, I'll break them off. I'll twist them, kick you in the nuts, slam your noses into the ground, and use my nails to gouge out your fucking stupidly vacant eyes. Try me. Just. Fucking. Try me." her eyes traveled to the Heathers and Veronica. "And if any of you decide to join in, I'll tear your wigs off and make you choke on them."

Heather Duke and McNamara took a few steps back; Kurt and Ram looked behind their shoulders at Heather Chandler for direction. She was smirking faintly.

"You know, I never did like you." Heather's heels clicked as she went forward; her arms went between Ram and Kurt, parting them out of her way. "You're fucking sad, you know that? I almost feel bad for you. Shit, I was willing to be nice and lay off you for the most part, with your dead little-"

The sound of Mel's fist colliding with Heather Chandler's face was deafening; it seemed to echo in the cafeteria.

Heather Duke screamed and put her hands to her mouth. "Holy shit!"

"Holy shit!" Ram and Kurt were caught between shock and laughter at Heather's expression as she lost her balance and fell back onto the dirty floor.

JD lowered his book from his line of vision as Mel yanked Heather back up by her hair to bring their faces close together. _"Holy shit…"_

But before anyone else could get out their exclamations of disbelief, a tense hush fell over the spectators. Heather had let out a sharp yelp that was followed by another yank.

"Shut up Heather."

Mel shook her head by the roots; she could see a cafeteria worker run off to get a teacher from the corner of her eyes. With a resigned sigh, she tossed the fuming and wounded girl away to the floor; Heather and Heather were so paralyzed, they hesitated before rushing to help her up.

Mel lingered and cast Heather the same blank look; throughout the whole scene her expression barely changed.

"My nose! Are you cracked?!" Heather put a hand to her nostrils to stop the trail of blood. "God I think you broke it! Do you know what happens with a broken nose?!"

"It hurts?"

"No you cunt! Both my eyes are going to bruise; I'll look like a goddamn raccoon!" Heather lowered her hands and took a hanky Heather McNamara gave her to wipe the blood; her voice sounded oddly thick, but then, she could only breath out of her mouth now. "You just wait. You're done here."

"Yeah, I am." Mel agreed; she gave the Heathers and the jocks and the nerds and the goths and the preps and all the rest of them a halfhearted smile before lifting her hand in a limp wave.

Mel was glad to be out of school early, though she was a bit worried about the cops seeing her walking around town and bust her for truancy. But then, the cops there were also fucking idiots. She knew for certain her parents would be shortly receiving a call from the principle or the dean or whoever made calls to say what bad stuff their kid did in school, but she didn't care. Her time in that town was limited; actually, she thought twice about even bothering to go home.

 _"I already have everything I planned to take in my bag…"_

Mel sat down on a bus bench and began looking through her bag to make sure. Some food, some cash, a few essentials, and a pink blanket and a pair of ruined headphones. And a pack of batteries and a tiny portable radio that only worked half the time; she wanted to travel light, but Mel knew she'd go nuts without her tunes on the way to wherever she would end up.

 _"I should grab a map while I'm at it."_ Mel made a mental note as she walked to nowhere in particular.

She didn't want to go home or school; the effort to even attend the first day was a bit pointless, but Mel wanted to at least be able to say she sort of went to her senior year. Yet aside from getting the whim to tell off the Heathers free of any hassle, there wasn't any reason to stay for even the whole day.

 _"There's just nothing for me here, not anymore."_ Mel blinked back the sting in her eyes; she was originally going to wait until graduation so she could save money, but in the end it was far too long to wait. _"I just can't take it, if I stay in that house, in this town for one more year, I might as well be dead."_

Mel tried to calm down; she knew she at least needed to clear her head. The day was going into the afternoon and she wanted to leave while there was still some light out.

 _"I'll grab some snacks and a map and motor. Or jog."_ Mel almost wanted to smile as she stepped inside the 7-Eleven; the parking lot was filled with trucks and their drivers were either fueling up on gas or donuts and coffee. _"Maybe I can hitch a ride. If any of them try anything, I'll use my knife and run if my gut isn't settled."_

The only thing Mel could rely on now was herself and her own instincts and she really didn't want to start doubting either one. She took her time though browsing and trying to see which items were the healthiest out of all the junk; her mind was so preoccupied and jittery, she didn't see where she was shuffling down the aisle.

"Whoops."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Mel smiled apologetically; her smile faltered just so. "Is school out already?"

"Nope. I'm surprised though."

"Of what?"

"You must recognize my face." JD smiled with a mocking sort of smugness as he sipped his Slurpee.

"Westerberg doesn't get that many new faces." Mel explained. "Good luck by the way."

JD looked on as she began to walk away. "What, no introduction?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going back." Mel called over her shoulder as she went to the candy aisle.

 _"And I'm not worth a moment of your time apparently."_ JD followed her a few paces behind. "Call me curious. I didn't get your name."

"Yeah."

JD waited but Mel just kept her focus on deciding between Snowballs and Twinkies. "That charming Sherwood hospitality just soothes the soul. I feel as welcome as a hangover."

"Christ, okay. What's your name?"

"Jason Dean, JD for-"

"What did you say?"

"Jason Dean?"

Seeing the way Mel took down Heather Chandler and her posse with cold cruelty wasn't nearly as unsettling as the expression that passed over her face. For just a split second, Mel looked as though he had slapped her right in the face. And then she mustered a half smile.

"No kidding?" Mel went back to her selecting.

"That's a reaction. Got an ex with the same name?"

"I've never dated. Anyhow, it's nice to meet you; I'm Mel."

JD waited for more, but it seemed Mel wasn't much of a talker. Or maybe she just didn't want to talk to him; he was the new kid, but then from that spectacle earlier, Mel didn't seem the kind who cared about cliques or social standing.

 _"Why is she so tight assed?"_ JD pretended to look over a package of Ding-Dongs.

"Oh!"

JD looked up; Mel was scurrying toward a small display of fake orange and yellow and red mums. Mel took a perfectly proportioned bouquet, and as an afterthought, she grabbed a couple of candy apples; it was a bit early for Halloween, but the corporations seemed to celebrate holidays earlier and earlier every year. Before JD could so much as open his mouth, Mel had taken all her items to the check out. He looked back at the slushie machine; if he went to get one now, he would be too late to chat with her.

Ever since he got to Sherwood, JD couldn't wait to move to the next town. It was hick city and the smell of cow dung was covering the town as well as the layer of ignorant intolerance and underlying hostility for anyone different.

Mel's outburst had been the most entertaining thing to happen since his dad showed him his plans to demolish an abandoned cannery downtown. He wanted to just talk to her, see what she was all about, but it seemed hard for Mel to even be civil. JD was thinking of cutting his losses as she bounded out of the 7-Eleven without so much as a goodbye, but then, he hadn't cut school early just to back out of conversing with the one person with any sort of discerning personality in that one horse town.

 _"Or should I say one cow?"_

It was a place where everything was _kept_ in it's place. Maybe he and Mel could bring a little much needed chaos to that strict order.

And so, JD followed after her on his bike at a safe distance as she walked quickly in a direction he wasn't yet familiar with. When she went off road and down a pathway toward a cemetery surrounded by woods, JD parked his vehicle away in a thicket of bushes and made sure to keep his footsteps muffled. The trees were relatively thick at the bases despite their narrow tops and branches, so it was easy to keep himself out of her line of sight.

Actually, Mel hadn't so much as looked around her as she moved forward; she already knew exactly where she was going. After ten more minutes of walking past graves and statues of angels, Mel went off the gravel path and made a beeline toward a headstone.

JD stayed a few feet away, half emerged behind a thick oak; he couldn't quite make out what was engraved on the slab as Mel ran a hand down it's smooth surface before kneeling down in the damp grass. She stuck the flowers on the right side while placing one of the candy apples on the left.

"I know what you're thinking,"

JD narrowed his eyes, trying to get a good look at her profile. Mel was smiling wryly, twirling the other candy apple in her fingers.

"I should finish school, I shouldn't be fighting. and I'll admit, I feel kinda bad for the Heathers. God only knows how they got so horrible, but they needed a reality check. And it's not like I'll be coming back." Mel sent the headstone a cheerful grin. "Except to visit you. I know mom and dad don't come by. They're still the same. The only time they bother to say boo to me is to tell me how much trouble I cause. They never said it, but I know they wish I had died. I guess I kinda agree."

JD leaned up against the tree and frowned. Was she really talking to someone? It felt like whoever she was addressing was sitting right in front of her, but there wasn't anyone else there from what he could see. Just the grave.

"But not for their reasons. Not because you could've been a success, someone great. I don't care about that, even if you weren't...dammit."

Mel put a hand to her face to scrub at her eye and let out a long shaky breath. "If I could go back, I would have rather it been me. You're the only person who's ever loved me, but you got taken away. I know it was an accident, but that's how it feels. Like you were stolen, like the only good thing in my stupid life is gone. I can't stay here."

JD sneaked over to a closer tree as Mel took the time to wipe her face. When he chanced peering around the mossy bark, she had unwrapped the candy apple.

"I think of you every day. My friends got sick of it, but I don't know what else to do. And mom and dad just want to forget." Mel paused and reached to unzip her stuffed bag; she slowly pulled out a pink quilt folded up to the size of a folder. "They wanted to toss this out with all your stuff...I wish you could go with me. I'm sorry for every time I told you to leave me alone or got mad at you for using the shower when I wanted to or when I wouldn't let you play with my radio...I hope you knew how much I loved you."

Mel took a small nibble from the sweet treat to steady her voice; she could hardly taste the caramel sticking to her teeth. She might as well have taken a chomp out of a piece of cardboard. Then to JD's surprise, she suddenly laughed.

"Remember we always used to talk about having our own place? I'd get a job first and then buy a house and you could stay over whenever you wanted? And then when you turned eighteen you could just live with me. You'd never have to worry about 'earning' their fucking approval." Mel's chuckle turned bitter. "We'd be like, 'Sayonara motherfuckers!', maybe move to another state. And-"

Mel stopped; she now had a bashful sort of half grin, but it was tinged with a sort of childish glee, like she had a big secret to tell. JD wasn't sure what to make of any of this; was she going crazy? Or was she just that lonely?

"Promise you won't laugh, or I'll leave you those corn chips you hate next time I visit." Mel said warningly as she pointed her barely eaten apple at the silent grave. "I always thought I could get a house with a nice yard. Decorate it for Halloween and bake homemade stuff like cookies or brownies and dress up like a witch for the trick-or-treaters." Mel giggled at the idea and continued as she chewed her candy apple. "I thought it'd be nice. Like, when those kids grew up, they could look back when they were feeling shitty and be like, 'wasn't that a good time?', and then they'd always have at least one happy memory to remember."

Mel scooted over so she was sitting right in front of the grave; she sighed and patted the stone.

"And when you grew up and had your own kids, you could bring them over."

Her hand fell back into her lap in a trembling fist. There was no reply of course.

"Why couldn't you have waited until then? Why did you have to die when we were stuck here? I mean, were you ever really happy?"

Mel asked so softly, JD had to strain his ears. She was talking like there really was someone there and it was as unnerving as it was depressing.

"You made me happy...but now that you're gone...I'm so sad." Mel laughed and shook her head. "I guess I really am dumb. I'm just talking to myself."

Mel sat back by her bag; she stuffed the folded blanket back inside and pressed her hands to her eyes as she tried to block the tears.

"I've tried really hard Jason. I know you'd want me to try and stick it out here, but I just can't. I can't stand it and I can't forget you. I don't want to. You're still the only thing that was ever good in my life. It's so lonely here, you have no idea...but I guess you don't have any ideas anymore, huh?"

The faint smile on Mel's face was gone as she stared blankly at the headstone and tried to think of how life could have been for them.

Mel wanted to hang out with friends and go to the mall and paint her nails and go to concerts and come home to a family that didn't regret her. She wanted to be seventeen and go to prom and not feel broken. Mel would have loved to live the life her brother would have wanted for her, but she wouldn't be able to have it, not in Sherwood. There were too many ghosts.

"I'm sorry Jason." Mel sniffed and wiped the bubble of snot threatening to drip down her upper lip. "I'm not smart like you, I'm not good at anything. All I do is fight with people and zone out and steal beer. I don't know what to do. I don't want to be alone, but I can't be with people...not how I am now. I don't know if I can ever love anyone else. I'm just no good like this." Mel took a shaky breath and hugged herself tight against the autumn chill. "I don't want to see you yet when I'm still like this. I don't even know if I'll ever see you again. All I have is memories. I'm just waiting for the day remembering won't hurt...but I don't even know if it'll ever happen."

The sun was going down already. It was time to leave.

"I'll come back sometime. And I'll be happy. This can't be it." Mel said uncertainly. "Before I give up, I want to try. It's the only thing I can do...I love you. I hope if you're, you know, up there or...I don't know if you can actually hear me somehow...you know someone's still thinking of you. That'll never change. I promise."

Mel struggled to get up; her legs had long since fallen asleep and she nearly fell back on her ass. She could have sworn she heard laughter, but even she wasn't crazy enough to believe Jason was somehow getting amusement from her blunder beyond the grave. Mel rubbed her hands up and down her arms, wishing she had thought to wear something warmer than her faded pink sweater.

"So long. I swear, I'll come back to see you." Mel scratched her cheek. "Sorry to ramble."

"I'd say that was more of a monologue. Not bad, but I wouldn't give speeches to gravestones in this weather without a coat."

Mel felt a weight on her shoulders that wasn't from her knapsack; it smelled like cigarettes and lighter fluid.

JD's arms were just retracting from her, but before he could get back, Mel's skull had banged back into his chin so hard he was sure his his bottom teeth were another hit away from getting knocked out.

"You!" Mel's face contorted in anger, a flush of embarrassment on her already blotchy cheeks as she threw his jacket at him like it was infected. "Did you follow-you know what? I don't care." she glared up at him. "Just go."

"I didn't realize this place was your private property." JD rubbed his sore chin as he managed to get one arm back into his duster. "Is there a law in Sherwood against walking in the same direction as someone else?"

"No, but there might be a few on stalking." Mel ground out; she grabbed her bags roughly with one last somber look at the headstone. "I don't know what you're playing at, but just buzz off."

"That hurt you know." JD was smirking a bit as he finished putting on his coat; his chin was indeed already beginning to bruise. "I don't think the little brother who doesn't want you fighting would be happy you tried to knock a guy's teeth out on his grave site."

"Don't you say another word." Mel looked at him coldly, all traces of embarrassment long gone. And suddenly she smiled thinly. "Actually, keep talking. Hell, camp here for all the shit's I give. Have a nice life dick wad."

Mel began walking out toward the path with a steady gait; this incident just made her that much more sure of her decision.

"My mom's dead." JD called out to her in the dullest voice. "She killed herself years ago by staying in a building my dad blew up for his job."

Mel froze in her tracks. The air suddenly felt ten times colder and still.

"She waved goodbye to me from the window." J. D. took a few steps closer. "It sucks, but I think of her still. And frankly Mel, I'd wager I can understand you in a way no one else in this town could."

"You don't know a thing about me." Mel said with considerably less bite, but her voice was still firm.

"The pain clears your mind, doesn't it? All this bullshit with the Heathers and the high school hierarchy, it all just seems like a bunch of crap, right? This should be the best years of our lives, but people like those bitches poison it. And in the real world, it only gets worse for decent folks like us."

Mel struggled to find a response. JD had taken the liberty of plopping right down where she had been sitting. He was currently busy trying to shield his match from the wind so he could light the cigarette dangling from his lips. She wanted to be insulted at the spot he decided to smoke at, but her mind was still reeling.

"What, cat got your tongue?" JD said around the now burning cigarette; he inhaled smoothly and let the smoke blow out his nostrils. "You sure were talkative a few minutes ago. I was getting tired standing around, but I felt it might be rude to interrupt your, uh, conversation." he jerked his head towards the grave.

"I was just...I was just talking to myself really." Mel managed to get out.

JD sent a puff of smoke her way. "You say tomato. But hey, whatever helps; I prefer a good brain freeze myself, but…"

Mel stared at him. "Why did you tell me all that stuff?"

"It's only fair. I did stumble on your private chat after all. And besides, you're not just anyone Mel." JD smiled crookedly. "You're like me."

"A snoop?"

"An outsider." JD kept his eyes glued to her face without hesitation. "So is everyone when you come down to it. Your classmates are all a bunch of outsiders desperate to find a niche, and when they do find it...well, look at those girls you almost clobbered. I might be new, but I can see it; they'll do and step on anyone to keep their spots. They'll trade in their souls like cards and the approval of their equally lost peers are the chips. Oh yeah, I know. When the chips are down, they'll kill their own."

JD brought the cigarette to his lips. "Sound about right? Please, tell me if I missed anything."

Mel couldn't help a hollow smile. "You're smart for a guy stupid enough to smoke that shit."

"What these?" JD held up the offending cigarette. "So uh, are they any more dangerous than a young lady running away with nowhere to go?"

Mel shook her head in exasperation. "Dude, what do you want? I mean, you obviously followed me for some reason. What for? Just to make a speech about how shitty high school is? Every other movie the last ten years has done that."

"Yeah, but what have they done about it?"

Mel narrowed her eyes. "I don't have time for this."

JD watched as she began to walk off, but then she abruptly stopped and turned around with an odd expression.

"And I'm sorry. About your mom. I only wish mine had disappeared earlier in my life, but it sounds like yours must have been nice if you miss her still." Mel looked down at the spot her brother now rested before they went back to JD's gaze. "Also, don't follow me. And toss that shit somewhere else when you're done."

"What's the rush? I was hoping you might want to stick around for a bit actually."

"Nope."

"I liked how you dealt with those assholes."

Mel frowned. "I didn't do it for the fun of it."

"You sure? I don't think Heather Chandler's nose will ever be the same." JD stood up, making sure to walk forward a few paces before tossing his cigarette in the grass and dragging his boot to put it out. "It was...sensational. I think you did what most students at Westerberg only wish they could have done."

"It's not something to be proud of." Mel replied. "It was impulsive. If anything, it just proves I'm no better. A good person would have just let it go."

"I think you're a good person."

"You don't know me. You heard me have what was supposed to be a private...moment." Mel huffed and looked away. "God, how could you? That wasn't for anyone else to hear and you knew it. Why didn't you just go?!"

"Because I didn't want to."

"Why?! God what the fuck is your-?" Mel gasped as JD's arms looped around her tightly. "Hey! Get off me, I'll scream, I'll-"

"It hurts so much you can't breathe. Every day you wake up and you wonder, 'what am I even still doing waking up every day?' You go through the motions, you avoid the parents, you avoid the sheep, and you're alone because you're who you are and there's just no way anyone else would get that. You try to Mel, but you can't stop how you feel. No matter how hard you try to numb it down, it'll come back."

Mel grit her teeth and shoved down the lump in her chest as forcefully as she tried to shove him away, but either her nerves were failing her or JD was that much stronger. He wasn't budging an inch.

"Cool it will you? Don't push me out. What's the harm in meeting a kindred soul?"

JD sneaked one of his hands into Mel's hair; they were so close he could smell her lip gloss and feel the outline of her chest pressing against his. Hot tears were springing up from the corners of her eyes, but there was no fear, only a faded ember of the boiling anger remained.

"It's scary when people see you, especially when it's on accident-"

"I don't call eavesdropping an accident."

JD just held her closer. "It doesn't have to be scary, Mel. I wouldn't abandon you for being honest. I want to see you. It's not too late...you don't have to be the lone ranger in this hell hole."

Mel arms were limp at her sides. She was looking at JD as though she didn't quite know what to make of him. He could feel his heart thawing just at the timidly curious bunny rabbit stare. JD pulled back just so to tuck a wayward piece of hair from her wet cheek.

"Why not be alone together?" JD smiled wide as she cocked her head to the side inquiringly. "Tell you what, let's get out of here for a bit; you can piss off your parents by riding off with the punk on his motorbike."

"Like I give a rat's ass what they think."

"Don't tell me you aren't tempted." JD smirked playfully. "Picture it: you, me, the wind in our hair. Maybe go back to the 7-Eleven, buy a slushie with two straws."

"You put Romeo to shame."

"You said you've never dated; how would you know?"

"Guess I wouldn't." Mel conceded lightly. "And then? What happens next?"

JD shrugged innocently. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On you."

JD brought his fingers to Mel's cheek; her skin was as cold as ice. The gloss smelled like cake frosting. Her parted, untouched lips looked soft and he could hardly hear what she was saying from the pounding in his chest. He'd kill her if she was lying about being inexperienced. Or maybe just punish her a little with a nip harsh enough to make her regret even attempting to push him away. It was impossibly cruel to rip apart what was meant to be together.

"Okay."

The stab to the side of JD's gut was really nothing more than a prick, but Mel dragged the tip of her jackknife downward and managed to break skin. He jumped back with a curse and Mel held up the blade with a lazy smirk.

"You know, you're a bit of a sap deep down, aren't you Jason?"

JD let out a short laugh and pressed down the cloth of his shirt to soak up the blood. "I'd say my observation skills were lacking. Hey, you read Baudelaire?"

"No."

He laughed at the flippant reply. "He once said, 'There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for'."

"Wow, that's good enough to get printed on a bumper sticker."

"You really are tough nut to crack aren't ya? Come on Mel, work with me here!" JD was inspecting his cut with a somewhat dazed half grin; it was hardly deep and the blood was already drying and closing the wound up. "Your aim could definitely use work."

"I wasn't aiming to kill. Geez, if anyone here is a nut it's you." Mel retorted. "I don't know what makes you think you could put your grubby little hands on me, but it can't be sanity."

"You're the only thing that's making me see things clearly in this place Mel. Ya know, I wasn't looking forward to move number eleven, but here we are." JD straightened out his duster lapels. "You're more than I hoped for. It's been a pleasure just to watch you in action; shame you don't agree."

"Did your mom drop you on your head when you were born? Or are you just this naturally unhinged?" Mel didn't flinch as JD's smile turned cold. "Yeah, hurts when someone intrudes on your personal shit, huh?"

"They say the first cut is the deepest." JD's dark eyes gleamed. "I'm going to say you're still not sold on my proposal?"

Mel's hard look softened into a blank stare; she folded up her knife and stuffed it back in her jean pocket before taking steady steps to where JD stood.

"I already told you. I can't stay here Jason. Not even for you."

JD felt goosebumps on his arms as she stood before him; Mel sighed softly and looked up at him with fond amusement.

"I'm not going anywhere specific. Just away. And there's no guarantee I'll end up somewhere better...just a hunch."

JD chuckled and shook his head. "Is there any place like that?"

"Maybe."

"Are you really going to do it? You're really leaving, just like that?" JD felt betrayed, but he knew he had no right to feel that way; he had just met her that very morning. It only felt like he knew her all his life.

"Do you want to come with me?"

JD's eyes went wide. "What?"

"You want to throw it all away and come with me? Like you said, we can take your bike. We can even go to your place so you can grab anything you might need. Two is safer than one. I'll even share my candy." Mel grinned and reached out to rub his head.

"...why are you being so nice?"

"Well, I should go before I'm late." Mel pulled away and smoothed down the skirt of her work uniform; she fastened her purse over her shoulder and sent him a lazy wave before walking toward the building marked to be torn down.

"Wait, Mel!"

She blinked and faced him with a kind smile before she kept moving forward.

"You're still just a kid, Jason."

"Wait-"

She didn't look back.

"MEL!"

"What?!"

JD's eyes flew open and he almost sent Mel falling backward when he leaped out from under the covers and onto the carpeted floor of her bedroom.

"Mel…?"

"Good morning." Mel picked up her dropped purse. "Boy, you scared me kid. I was just going to tell you I had to get going-"

"No!" JD grabbed her by the shoulders with urgent eyes. "No, you can't go inside, it's gonna come down, it'll crush you to death, it'll-"

Mel stiffened as JD flung his arms around her, his whole body going limp as one of her hands made to stroke his hair. The sudden weight causing them both to slowly sink to the floor, but Mel didn't resist; she felt the collar of her shirt dampen. His face was pressed into the cloth as he garbled out a string of muffled pleas and nonsense and something about candy apples.

"You can't go...you have to stay, you have to. Fuck Mel, if you left and-"

JD choked on a dry sob and a violent shiver wracked his whole body; Mel's fingers were stroking tenderly. She was cradling him like a child and he had never felt so mortified with himself.

But JD didn't want her to stop. Even if it meant she was seeing him at his lowest, at his most pathetic, even if he knew he wouldn't be able to look her in the face for a bit, JD didn't want her to pull back. If she did, bad things would happen, he just knew it as surely as he knew his mother had fully intended to let herself be crushed and mangled by the rubble and leave his life forever.

This wasn't some Oedipus, mommy complex fantasy. The embrace didn't make JD sweat or his heart threaten to burst from his chest. It made him ache. He wanted so much more from her, but right now, this really was enough.

Even if it arose from a panicked moment of weakness and a fever dream, JD would let his guard down. He would allow himself to feel secure and protected, though he couldn't help think about how no one had held him like this since his mother. No one had looked at him as a person to be taken care of. JD didn't want Mel to see him as just a kid, but he couldn't deny how good it felt to be treated in a way that suggested he was worth fighting for.

"Jason, it was a dream, that's all." Mel's voice was just as gentle as her hands. "You were asleep; actually, I was going to wake you up so you'd know where I went and didn't get worried. Sheila called me in for an emergency, I'm only gonna be gone for two hours tops until the swing shift guy gets there, but I'm not going anywhere else. It's okay you know...we all have bad dreams sometimes, and if they're really realistic...well, let's say I'm no stranger to getting shaken up when they're done." she smiled sadly. "But it's okay. It happens. I'm not going anywhere. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah. I know." JD chuckled wetly. "Sorry for the waterworks. I messed up your-"

"I don't give a rat's ass." Mel said dismissively; she gave his head one last pat before pulling them both up to their feet. She took out a handkerchief and began dabbing at the wet spot. "I'll say I spilled a drink. Not that they wouldn't think so in the first place, but…" she smiled suddenly. "Hey, wanna come with me?"

JD stared at her. "What?"

"You can't sit at the bar, but you can get something to eat. Are you hungry? It's past lunch time."

"I can eat."

"Alright!" Mel stuffed the napkin back into her shirt pocket. "Grab your jacket, it's chilly out. I'll set you up with whatever you're hungry for. Hell, maybe I can convince Sheila to let you sit at the counter." her grin grew bashful and an excited flush rose to her cheeks. "I can show off my cool bartender skills for a captive audience."

"Sounds like fun." JD chuckled and followed her to the front door; he kept his eyes on the floor as he pretended to tighten the laces on his shoes. "Thanks Mel."

Mel pretended she didn't see JD pulling himself together. "On the way back, let's grab some candy. I know it's early for Halloween, but I'm feeling festive."

"Don't tell me you're going to start with the decorations early too?"

"No." Mel sent him a coy glance as his face expressed doubt. "Oh come on, it's my favorite holiday. It's all about costumes and getting scared and eating sweets. None of that family drama stuff, just fun." she blew a piece of her hair from her eyes and smiled. "It's gonna be great this year. You can help pass out candy with me if you want."

"Can I hide in the bushes and pop out with a fake knife instead?"

"Will it be bloody?"

"Yes."

"Damn Jason, you want to give them heart attacks? God knows you gave me one this morning, thought I was going to need to call the exorcist."

"Hey Mel?"

"What's up?" she sat down on the back of the bike; her skirt rode up and J. D. pretended not to notice.

"You think we'd get along if we went to school together?"

"No. But I didn't get on with anyone." Mel told JD as her arms wrapped around his waist on habit. "Besides, I wouldn't be there. I dropped out, remember?"

"What if I dropped out and went with you? Not like there's much for me to stick around for." JD plunked the helmet over her hair; she frowned at how it would flatten but thought seriously about his question.

"I'd probably tell you to get lost so you didn't do something crazy and waste your future." Mel chuckled as the bike rumbled to life.

"You are my future."

"What?" Mel called over the revving engine.

"Hang on tight!"

JD smiled as the familiar pain of her nails came; he purposely raced to the bar even though it was just a little ways from the house. Mel's face pressed between his shoulder blades and he never felt more alive in his short, whirlwind yet monotone of a life. He felt reborn in her arms.

Going back in time was impossible, but who said you couldn't start over?


	19. Send Love Through

**Author's Note: I wrote this side story with some material taken from the 1983 adult animated movie "Rock and Rule", which had songs from a few top rock names in that decade. Enjoy some hopefully entertaining filler until the next chapter!**

"What the hell?"

Veronica tried to strum her bass repeatedly, but the sound was only going so far; she looked up to where JD was still belting out the chorus for their set, but now his voice was only traveling to the few front seats of the lounge. Mel, who had stopped pressing on her keyboard, sent Martha an identical worried look as the curtains closed around them with a snap.

"What's going on?" Veronica demanded to know as the lounge owner came sauntering from backstage with a wry scowl.

"What does it look like?"

Martha lowered her drum sticks and frowned sadly. "But we didn't even get to finish the song…"

"Exactly. I shouldn't have let you start." Heather brought her cigarette to her lips with a sarcastically apologetic smile that did nothing to detract from the chilly stare.

JD reigned in the urge to smash his guitar onto her head; he was sure there was nothing inside to damage, but Mel was sending him a warning look.

"Heather," she began patiently. "What's wrong? I mean, don't tell me we got requested to get off the stage."

"Yeah, this place is dead." Veronica said as she made her way across the stage to Heather; she had patience, but enough was enough. "And we've been practicing all day for this. You said-"

"Um, hey, question?"

"Yes?" Martha inquired; Veronica shook her head and put a hand to her face in exasperation.

Heather continued. "Who owns this place?"

"...you?"

"And who's losing money letting you hacks play the same depressing shit that drives away customers?"

"If you wanted a bubble gum band, why hire us?" JD asked with barely hidden disdain. "We play real music."

"Yeah, real crap. No one wants to hear you bitch about life is cruel or about suicide or-"

"That's not all we have!" Martha piped up quickly. "JD doesn't write all our songs."

JD stiffened as her gaze traveled to Mel, urging her to speak up.

"Aren't you the keyboardist?" Heather turned to look at Mel expectantly.

"Well, I don't-"

"Mel writes lyrics too." Veronica said quickly before her band mate could say anything else. "And she sings like an angel; it's not fair to kick us out before we show everything we have to offer."

Heather scoffed. "Are you for real? I should toss you out on your asses without pay."

"What?!" Veronica's grip tightened on the neck of her bass; her irritation was gone. Now she felt furious. Martha looked ready to cry as she stared down at her drum set.

"My lounge, my money. You guys suck. You haven't drawn in anyone tonight." Heather said. "It's not like we have a contract."

"You can't do this!"

"Give me one good reason why I can't."

"How about this?" JD's eyes narrowed and before he could take more than a step forward, Mel went in front of him and smiled apologetically at Heather.

"One more song."

"No."

"There hasn't been anyone here all night. It's a weekday and it's late." Mel reasoned; she wet her glossy lips and clasped her hands in front of her as she tried to sound confident. "One more song. At least let us prove we have something else you'll like."

Heather glared at her and the band tensed as they waited for an answer. But JD wasn't fooled; anyone paying attention could have seen how the woman's sharp eyes had flickered to Mel's lips, if only for an instant.

"Just one more song." Mel repeated. "Please Heather?"

"If I don't like it, you're done here."

JD looked away as he tuned his guitar. _"Bullshit."_

Heather walked off to demand the stage hands turn back on the power to the amps. They were all sweating a bit from the high heat of the stage lights, but each one was nervous for their own reasons.

Mel glanced over at JD who was still not looking over at her or moving from the front center position.

"Same song, and hurry it up."

"What?" Veronica's anger turned to confusion as JD plucked on his strings and kept his eyes averted from the girls. Martha was looking the most worried, already terrified enough of Heather's wrath; she was not a woman to cross.

"JD, Heather said-"

"If Heather told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"

Veronica laughed derisively. "I'd just push her instead."

"So why should she be the one calling the shots? What does an airhead like her know about good music?" JD asked as he smoothed his fringe out of his eyes with a boyishly sly smile.

Mel looked at him coolly. "My song is good music."

JD strummed the first notes of their previously interrupted song.

"Jason, you promised."

"Gotta go with the flow Mel."

"J. D." Veronica began. "You know you're good, but...you can't keep doing this-"

"Doing what?"

"People like Mel's voice." Martha spoke up.

"Did I say they didn't?" JD asked with some audible impatience; Martha sort of flinched and looked down at her drums. Veronica's tentative tone dropped completely.

"Maybe our fans come to hear 'your kind of music', but we need more than that. We need you to draw them in and Mel to keep them coming back."

"We pick up where we started."

Suddenly, the curtains were pulled back once more; Heather was smoothing down her dress and giving the empty room a vapid beauty queen smile as she reintroduced them like there were spectators.

Veronica was peering down to the back of the lounge. "Hey, was that guy here before?"

A ring of blue smoke encircled the air above a silhouetted patron and two large men who were positioned so they were slightly in front of them. They stood on either side of the spectator, both with stern faces and folded arms, staring out with imposing half glares at the basically empty room.

"Why do they need guards?" Martha whispered to her band mates as she adjusted her thin rimmed glasses to get a better look, but to no avail. The stranger was sitting too far away in partial shadow; the candle that typically flickered in the middle of each table was snuffed out.

"Maybe he's loaded." Veronica sent Mel a teasing smile. "Hey, work your magic, maybe he'll tip us."

Mel winked with a light laugh. "I'll see what I can do."

"Yeah, maybe next time." JD reminded her.

"But Heather-"

Before she could say another word, JD was playing the riff; Veronica and Martha were sending her torn looks. Mel was glaring at him defiantly.

 _"Enough is enough."_

She slammed her hand down on her keyboard, drowning out the riff from the electric guitar; JD's shoulders stiffened and he paused his plucking as Mel continued to press down on the keys to play the beginning melody of her song. Veronica changed up the tempo accordingly and Martha looked over at JD briefly before she started drumming a new, slower beat.

As Mel began to sing, JD turned to look at her with thinly veiled anger; she looked away from him to stare out into the crowd.

 _"Tough. I'm tired of keeping quiet."_

Mel sang a song about love. About how it perseveres and waits and yearns. About how she'd share it freely and honestly and boldly and patiently. JD would just have to deal with it if he couldn't stand her drippy little ballad. It was her feelings, her voice, and she was going to use them.

There was a faint clapping sound coming from the back of the lounge, in the half shadows and the glowering bodyguards. Mel felt her heart jump to her throat, but continued to croon and breathed evenly to keep her time to Martha's beat and Veronica's deep bass. They slowed it down for her interlude.

Mel brushed her hair out of her face and leapt the microphone close to her lips as she looked off into the distance. "Now I have revealed exactly why I'm here."

Heather was sitting down in the front row, her eyes roving over Mel with a haughty yet neutral sort of expression. They couldn't quite tell what she was thinking of their performance, but her eyes were glued upwards and she hadn't yet looked ready to pull the plug on their set.

"I'll be your angel, if you wanna see, how perfect sharing love with an angel can be..."

JD stalked off the stage, guitar in hand and scowl etched in his features. Mel only caught a glimpse of his coat as he went through the exit door without so much as a glance in her direction.

But the clapping continued softly and so, she kept singing to keep her spirits up and the tears at bay. Even when it had died down and the patron and their bodyguards had seemingly vanished into thin air as she ended her last verse, Mel felt a small bubble of pride in her chest. The last notes and her voice melded together and faded off gently as the curtains were pulled closed.

"I think I just got goosebumps." Martha began once they were in their dressing room, which was really just a sort of storage shed for performing bands instruments. Only regular bands at Heather's were allowed to rent or even use the official dressing rooms.

"And did you guys here that? I mean, maybe it was just one person tonight, but we did get a good review." Veronica joked as she plopped down on a sunken in cardboard box.

"I almost fainted." Mel sighed and looked around the small room. "So, I'm guessing JD's gone for the night, huh?"

Veronica shrugged. "He'll get over it."

"There shouldn't be anything to get over." Mel replied ruefully as she began to pack away her keyboard. "I swear, you'd think he was the only one in this group who matters-"

"We don't think that way." Martha said as she threw a tarp over her drum set to keep off any dust.

"Yeah, you two don't maybe, but Jason doesn't seem to get the message that there's more than one person in this band." Mel sighed in exasperation. "I mean, hell, what would we do without you to keep time and make the beat jump or Veronica to make the rhythm and the style?"

"JD has been pretty stressed out lately." Veronica spoke up. "I mean, it's like every time we land a gig he gets more antsy and tense. I think he's just worried. He thinks if we play softer songs we'll drive away our target audience."

"Who is our target audience?" Martha asked.

"Rockers." Veronica told her plainly. "You know, people who want to party."

Martha nodded in understanding. "Okay, sure, but I don't get what JD has against Mel singing. Why can't they at least duet?"

"Fat chance. Jason doesn't want to share the spotlight, period." Mel reminded them with a huff. "Jesus that kid..."

"I really don't think that's how it is." Veronica said; she curled up on her makeshift seat and rested her chin on her knees. "JD's not like that."

Mel looked down at her with some sympathy; she knew why Veronica was inclined to favor JD's stance even when he was being unreasonable. She herself didn't like thinking badly of him either, or any of her band mates. They had been through so much together already, but it seemed with every passing show and performance, JD was changing.

"It was sort of mean though….we're supposed to stick together." Martha said softly from her corner. "It wasn't fair to walk out on us."

"No arguments there." Mel slide down and sat on the floor facing the door to their 'dressing room'. "Martha, Veronica, you two need to be one hundred percent honest with me...do you think I should just back off? I mean, if this is something that's going to break us up, maybe it's not worth me pushing for vocals."

"No!" Martha insisted. "Me and Veronica want you to sing, at least your songs. We both like your voice."

"We're not going to split up over this." Veronica added. "I think we're all under a lot of stress lately. It doesn't help that Heather gets under JD's skin. I'm sure he just needs time to cool off."

"Yeah, I guess…" Before Mel could pursue the subject more, there was a knock on the open door; one of Heather's assistants was smiling politely from the side of the frame.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Oh no. It's Betty, right?" Mel stood up quickly to greet her. "Hey, is Heather busy? I wanted to ask her what she thought of our set."

Martha looked like she was on pins and needles. "Don't tell me she didn't like it."

Betty laughed. "Calm down, she wants you to sing for her again next week."

Veronica's jaw dropped slightly as Martha leapt over to hug her with an excited squeal. Mel was gaping at the assistant in awe.

"Really?"

"Yes, and I have your pay right here."

She held out four sealed envelopes and passed them out to the assigned name, but there were more people than envelopes. "Oh, is JD still gone?"

"Yes. We'll give him his share." Veronica said. "Um, when you say Heather wants us to perform here again, that means JD too doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but she wants her to sing more often." Betty nodded to Mel. "And Heather says if JD pulls another disappearing act, he can forget showing his face anywhere near the lounge."

Mel's smile dropped. "No kidding? Here I thought she was on the path to decency…"

"She has a good point. We can't have our guitarist and lead vocalist just leave in the middle of a concert." Martha said. "It looks unprofessional."

"Yeah, that's true." Mel conceded as she pocketed her and JD's earnings. "Betty, let Heather know we need to take off will you?"

"Okay, but here-" Betty held out a bouquet of roses; Mel hadn't paid them much mind, thinking they were meant for one of the other acts from earlier. "From the gentleman sitting in the back during your song."

Mel took the roses and smiled widely; she had never gotten anything from any of their fans before. "Shoot, I always thought flowers for the singer were meant for high class performers in opera or something."

"You deserve it." Betty gave them all a kind smile. "Have a good night everyone, can't wait to hear you again!"

The girls left Heather's in much better spirits, though Mel had wished she could have spoken to her directly. Despite her and JD's antagonizing behavior toward each other, and Heather's lackluster personality, she was a fair business woman. If her opinion of JD and him walking off stage was another nail in the coffin, they may not get another chance to perform there. Heather's Lounge was the place in the city to get recognized; chances were the mystery patron might have been a producer looking for underground talent or a scout sent to scour the local joints for new opportunities to report back to label companies. If the right person came in at the right time and liked their sound, the possibilities were endless.

Mel didn't want Heather to give them the boot from the top establishment to get seen; at the least she wanted her to know that they didn't all share JD's opinion or stubbornness, which had been recently getting more troublesome for the band's future.

But for now, she'd have to move those thoughts from her mind. Veronica, Martha, and Mel had to turn in and call it a night, each needing sleep for the jobs they needed to get to the next day. Instruments and amps and repairs and living expenses were expensive. When her band mates parted ways to their shared apartment, Mel was off on her own and feeling oddly lonely.

All in all, the night could have gotten very ugly. JD of course was nowhere to be seen when she got to their apartment, but Mel knew he'd come back. Maybe then they could actually talk; until then, she really wanted to focus on the positives. Heather enjoyed their sound, particularly Mel's lyrics, they were allowed to come back, they had their money, and for now, their futures seemed open to opportunity.

Even if the man wasn't someone that could advance their careers, Mel was flattered to receive a gift from a fan. The first thing she did when she got home was turn on the kitchen light and search for a vase or a large cup to hold the flowers in. Hopefully the water would keep them from becoming withered too soon; the white roses were so beautiful compared to the dingy apartment.

Mel frowned as she unwrapped the plastic from the de-thorned stems and slowly submerged them in the water. " _Where did he get these from?"_

Heather's Lounge didn't sell flowers to give to the performers; Mel was almost certain that the stranger hadn't been there until her song, though she supposed he would have been easy to miss.

 _"Maybe he's seen us before on a more crowded night...if he can afford bodyguards to escort him, he's probably a regular at nicer places like Heather's."_

But that being said, she was still confused as to how he could be a fan of her singing; JD had sung every single one of their sets since they've been giving their services to Heather Chandler. Mel felt she spent more time bussing tables there than actually playing her music; it was actually because of her they were able to play there at all. The day after a late set, Mel was working and Heather had asked why she looked so awful; she had never imagined her boss would even consider allowing her band a chance to perform now and then. The lounge was a bit classier than most dive bars, and it had plenty of rock and roll enthusiasts who enjoyed partying it up in a cleaner environment.

That being said, Mel knew she could bring in even more people with her sound; that was evident enough from the few times JD hadn't protested her singing a couple of songs in the past and the fans they had gained from hearing the best of both vocals.

 _"Martha had a good idea...a duet now and then would be great. But Jason would never go for it."_ Mel sighed and looked for a place to put the roses. At the very least, she had her time.

But she wished she knew what he was thinking; was JD's adamancy really because he thought their best chance for recognition was to stick to their harder, faster paced songs? Or was he being petty about Heather's requests? Or was he actually trying to hog the spotlight?

Mel sniffed the flowers and felt an ache in her chest. _"Goddammit Jason..."_

As her fingers arranged the petals, a card fell out from the middle of the bouquet, narrowly missing landing in the water. Mel caught it and held it to the kitchen light's dim bulb so she could read it better. She barely heard the front door opening and JD's voice addressing her.

Mel didn't turn around. "Welcome back. I put your share of the money on your bed."

"Mel-" JD stopped when he caught sight of the roses, eyes flickering over to the card in her hand. "What'd I miss?"

Mel kept her back to him. "Not much, at least as far as you're concerned."

JD let out a breath and came to her. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry doesn't mean shit right now. You walked out on us. You walked out on me." Mel held the card to her vision, pretending to read it. "How could you?"

"I said I was sorry."

"Why didn't you at least come back?" Mel tried to keep her voice level and firm.

JD lowered her hands and held them in his. "I didn't think there was much point coming back and interrupting your song again."

"Fine, but I'm not dropping this. We needed you Jason, I needed you and you just up and left us high and dry."

Mel gripped the card so tightly it crumpled in her palm; she was having difficulty keeping her voice from trembling in emotion. She hated to be angry with JD, but this was the last straw. She gently took her hands away and moved back a step, trying to calm herself down.

"We're a band but you haven't been acting like it. Veronica and Martha are worried, they feel like they're caught in the middle. Heather might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she did have a good point. We need to use _all_ our talents if we want to hit it big. It's not right for you to keep me on the sidelines."

"I never wanted to hold you back."

Mel frowned. "Is it my voice? I mean, from how fast you were trying to leave….like, do you think it's that bad?

"I don't." JD looked at the flowers and the wrinkled card. "Who gave you that?"

Mel blinked and found herself blushing. "Um, well, that guy with the bodyguards had it sent to me after we went backstage."

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's just a card that came with the roses." Mel said mildly enough, but JD could see her face glow as her bashfully wide smile stretched over her cheeks. She looked as radiant as she was on stage; even sweating and half out of breath, Mel's image managed to be complimented by the almost oven hot lights.

But then, JD had to admit to a bias.

"So, what's it say?"

"Um, just…" Mel couldn't even look him in the eye. "Oh don't ask me Jason. It's embarrassing."

JD nodded. "Can I get a runner up answer?"

"Alright, shoot."

"Answer me this: what do you think about when you sing?"

Mel's eyes went to his; she took a moment to think it over. "Well, I guess I'm nervous. I'm always a little nervous. I hope I don't screw up or hit a wrong note or do something dumb."

"And?"

"I try to just tell myself to calm down and that it's doesn't feel as long as it takes to do a song."

JD leaned against the wall and smiled at her with some exasperation. "Tonight. What did you think about when you sang tonight. When you sing that song of yours...what's going through your head?"

Mel sat down at the table, twirling the card in her fingers idly. "Tonight I was thinking about how I wanted to slap you silly for that stunt."

JD didn't feel very threatened by the look she gave him. "And?"

Mel shrugged. "What, do you want me to write a novel? I was nervous, pissed, and...well, I had fun. I liked being up there." she gave him a hard look. "Not that you care."

JD stood over her; it occurred to Mel he wasn't much taller than her at all. On the stage he was cool, intimidating, smooth, and had a showman's flair. In person, he was still what people might consider a cool tough guy, but Mel knew better.

Ever since the day they met, she was privileged to know Jason 'JD' Dean as the man on stage and the boy off. Some days, he was kind, in his own flippant, guarded sort of way; him and her would meet up with Veronica and Martha to get junk food and have movie nights. They'd take turns picking out films; they had fun together. They liked each other and they had chemistry. Veronica's wit and sensibility, Martha's consideration and optimism, JD's vision and ingenuity, and Mel's determination and adaptability. It seemed that they filled out each other's weak spots and they worked in sync.

At least, that's how things used to be; lately Mel wasn't sure she even knew JD half as well as she had thought. She had heard of band members changing, but from what she could see, JD's changes weren't from their rise in popularity with the local crowd or their, albeit small scale, accomplishments. For the first time since they met, she just couldn't understand him and it scared her.

Mel sighed and got up. "Jason, I'm tired. It's already late, we should both just go to sleep. We can talk more after I get back from work."

"I want to talk now."

Mel paused and watched as JD strolled over, the bouquet of roses clutched in his fist. "Hey, what are you-?"

"You're not ready for this Mel. I know you feel uncomfortable on stage; you've never been showy. But if we put you up front on a regular basis, you're going to be getting a lot of attention you can't handle."

"Excuse me?" Mel crossed her arms and scoffed loudly. "Uh, I think I know my own comfort zone, thanks. And so what? I wouldn't feel so nervous if you let me sing more often."

JD smiled calmly. "No need to get defensive. I'm trying to protect you."

"No, you're trying to-to keep me in my place!" Mel's temper was being prodded more and more with every word that slipped out of JD's mouth. "Don't you talk down to me like I'm some sheltered little girl."

"I bet if he said it you'd have gone home with the creep."

Mel's mouth hung open. "What did you just say?"

JD stared back at her unapologetically. "This guy probably scopes out others like you. He had it all prepared, didn't he? Who knows how many other chicks have gotten shit like this?"

Mel tried to stop him before he held up the flowers and shook them roughly, but she stopped her hand and drew back when JD began slamming the roses against the kitchen table, scattering the petals and snapping some of the stems in half. His breathing was harsh and his eyes flashed as he threw them to the ground. Mel took another step back; the flowers were wrecked, yet JD didn't look calm in the least.

"There'll be more of them you know."

"W-what are you-?"

JD turned to her with a slightly more composed expression, an odd smile on his lips. "More. More guys sending you stuff like this. It'll go to your head Mel; it happens to the best of us, even to someone like you. Too much attention will make you forget where you came from, who your real friends are. You're not ready for that."

Mel was trembling; she wished it was more from anger than fear. "That's a load of crap. You're making up excuses so you can, so…." she hugged herself and looked back and forth between JD's mild gaze and the ruined flowers. "What's happening to you? Why are you being like this Jason? God, where is all this bullshit coming from?!"

JD walked toward her slowly and she still had to resist the urge to jump.

"Who did you write that song for?"

"Song…? My song?"

Mel's mind was on the fritz the closer he came; she wanted to leap away or throw out her arms to keep him a good distance, but she was paralyzed. JD had the strangest look in his eyes despite his almost gentle tone.

"I didn't write it for anyone specifically."

"You know, you've never been good at introspection. Like, even your songs are pretty easy to get; they're simple, but….real. Yeah, that's it." JD was nodding to himself. "And your voice. It's good. I mean that. Mel, I'll make you a deal."

"A deal?" Mel parroted softly; seconds ago he looked ready to hurt her. A conspiratorial smile graced his features and his looked down at her slyly while he circled her.

"Yeah, uh, how 'bout this sound? You and me duet from now on, every song. You get to sing and I can make sure this," he plucked the card from her limp grip. "Doesn't become a recurring thing."

Mel's whole body seized up and JD wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into his chest.

"I know our set got pretty weird tonight. I shouldn't have walked, but I wasn't feeling so hot. Figures this would happen now."

JD looked over at the roses strewn on the floor haphazardly; who sends a girl white roses first thing anyway? "But hey, it's good timing all things considered. We need to start setting boundaries." he ran his fingers through her hair and brushed it from her cheek. "Talk to me angel."

"You have no right-!" Mel squeaked in pain as his grip over her face tightened.

"Okay, no more talking." JD chuckled and held her tight. "Don't you want it all Mel? We can have it; sure, now we've got a good thing going, but we can make it great! You need me Mel, you don't need this bullshit." he tossed the crumpled up card to the ground carelessly. "You won't go anywhere with empty praise from guys who just want to get in your pants. It's nothing. Is that what you want? I thought you wanted everything…?"

JD nuzzled her neck; he could feel the tears from her cheeks fall to her collar and licked one with the tip of his tongue. He took her shudder as a favorable sign.

"I want it all...now."


End file.
